New Civilizations
by Neteret
Summary: Mysteries, wonders and magic. Nothing on this new mission is quite what it seems.
1. The Mission

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: A new mission begins

Chapter 1 

Captain Picard's voice, though quiet and private, still filled his ready room:

"Captain's Personal log, Stardate 44713.1: The Enterprise is currently at rest alongside the Starship Arizona outside of the Polaris system, awaiting arrival of a new crewmember. Once the transfer is complete, we'll continue on our way to Kron III for our new mission.

"I here reiterate the opinions I expressed to Starfleet Admiral Podyznit; I welcome a chance to exercise my diplomatic skills, but I think the hidden agenda of the mission puts me in a poor position. Though, ostensibly this is to be merely a second contact…"

Captain JeanLuc Picard paused, taking the time to consider his words carefully. He laid his head against the high back of the chair, and relaxed as he thought. '_Merely second contact_?' Though first contacts with a newly discovered civilization were exciting, they were also tense and tentative. First contacts took nerves of steel, a certain psychic ability, a tense trigger finger with a reluctance to use it, and many other talents besides. One never knew if the new kids on the block were as warlike as Cardassians or as gentle as butterflies, whether they carried disease that could wipe out every other form of life in the quadrant, or whether, instead, they had the secret to everlasting health. Second contact, however, was altogether different. Second contact was like an invitation to the dance; it was finding the music of the relationship, what beat and step, what melody would be played. Questions of etiquette, of personal tastes were asked, discoveries were made beyond the nuts and bolts of safety versus threat. In this case, however, the Federation had a few dance steps already in mind.

But, since they were already so sure they wanted to trade with Kron, "why," Picard had inquired, "weren't they sending an assigned diplomat?" He still burned with the answer. He'd been reminded that one of the functions of second contact was to discover what the people of Kron expected of the Federation as well as to establish what was expected of the Kron. This is what founded an official diplomatic rulebook.

At the same time, they were to establish a presence in that area. Podyznit had been quite when she said, "There are a variety of reasons for doing that, Captain Picard. For one, the Kronatina have just found two entire planets rich in minerals and ores circling the other sun of their double star system. Those two planets are uninhabitable and can conceivably be mined right down to their cores. They have enough resources for several civilizations for centuries. Word has already reached the ears of the Ferengi, so we can't waste time." She'd cocked an elegant eyebrow when she said, "You will have to wear two hats, Captain Picard. Not only will you have to establish what information we'll need to properly train a diplomat, but you'll also have to nail down some sort of trade agreement for the Federation."

To which Picard had answered, "Since you're head of Starfleet Trade Agreement Enforcement, you must know my knowledge of how to establish trade relations is hearsay only. I'd be in over my head."

Podyznit, who had been sitting forward in her chair in an eager attitude of explanation, now leaned back. "Captain Picard, I know your record quite well. You've never failed to meet an assignment. If you haven't come out ahead, you have, at least, come out even, and never have you failed. You're a fine diplomat in your own right, and we're not asking you to set up a trade agreement, merely to get to admit that they will do so."

Captain Picard began shaking his head in frustration, but before he could voice further objections, Podyznit continued, "There is something else. The Kron star system is practically in the Romulan's back yard, and we need the presence of the Enterprise to deter any aggressive ideas they might be entertaining, should they be gazing over their fence. It's is another factor for assigning you, secondary to your talents, but a factor, nevertheless."

This detail had his attention. "Should we expect trouble?"

The admiral barely moved her head in the negative. "That particular sector of the Romulan Empire is uninhabited. They claim the territory, but, as far as we know, rarely even patrol the strip of neutral zone rimming it. They may yet not even recognize that they have such a prize is in their proximity. We can be fairly certain they will know soon, however, so we just want them to be aware that we're not taking it lightly." She smiled slightly. "And reminding the Kron that we're so impressed with them that we've sent our biggest and best ship won't hurt either."

Picard still entertained hopes for a peaceful mission, in spite of the possibilities for otherwise. He returned to his interrupted sentence, "I'm looking forward to meeting the Kronatina. The First Contact team reported that they're a very peaceful people. It seems that they have never engaged in war. One reason apparently being that they are singularly uni-cultured with little difference from one side of the planet's population or the other. This is not to say they don't have strife, have not had reason to develop weaponry, but in comparison with most other civilizations, my own very much included, the Kronatina have little defense or offense. It will be most refreshing to meet people whose militia is closer to a police force than to blood weary war veterans.

"The Kronatina are fascinated by our diversity of appearance as much as by the idea of intelligence from outer space. Unafraid of the difference, they're as eager to learn about us, as we are to learn about them. Of course, they have anxieties at possibly being overwhelmed by us and allaying those fears, as part of the Prime Directive, is a part of my duties.

He indulged himself for a moment in one of his pet fascinations, new and different inventions. "One part of their civilization I, personally, will want to explore is their development of movement translation devices. Apparently, nature gave them large, clumsy hands and, in order to do delicate handwork, an important step in development of a mechanical age, they first developed machines that reduced large movements to small movements. Although related to our WALDO's, these machines are developed far beyond anything found anywhere thus far. They are apparently so compact and so common everyone has several and can allows them to do anything from fine needlework, to writing letters, and even picking a single grape from a bunch. Though my interest is in how these devices were developed, the history of them, I understand others would be interested in their commercial use."

Bringing himself back to the purpose of the entry, he continued, "The only fly in the ointment is that the Ferengi will be present. As soon as they heard of the new source for minerals and of the micro movement products, they insisted on being included in the encounters. I don't object to their wish to trade, but I have never liked their methods. However, I must extend them full courtesies and I shall. I do not expect any particular problems to occur, merely annoyances as usually happens with any meetings we've had with the Ferengi.

"I like this sort of mission since it allows me to exercise my diplomatic skills for peaceful ends rather than for staving off bloodshed. Also, since we're not under a hurried time schedule, the blanket of such a mission will allow the crew to rest easy for a change.

He paused again, staring out the small port behind his chair. Out of sight, somewhere to the starboard side of the Starship Enterprise, hung the newly commissioned Starship Arizona, resurrected once again. Where the original U.S.S. Arizona had long ago deteriorated in the salt water off the coast of Hawaii on Earth, it's successor, Starship Arizona, was floating in parts, as it would forever, around the dark star, Wolf 359, the sight of the Starfleet's disastrous encounter with the Borg.

"We are currently awaiting the transport of a new member, Dr. T'Shing D'Jang dall. I have often expressed to Starfleet Command that a star class cruiser such as the Enterprise merits the services of an Intragalactic Veterinarian, but had not pushed the matter until our current vet received orders for transfer. With the talent to sense the difference between sentient beings and animals, she may save us from the sort of embarrassing predicaments like those we've had in the past." Picard ruefully remembered trying to make First Contact with what turned out to be nothing more than the equivalent to a colony of termites, and worse, the incident of invading a world that they'd thought free of intelligent life, but which was inhabited by the truly sentient micro organisms, on Valeria III.

"I'm also sure she'll be pleased to find the ship's Animal Board and Clinic has a full range of necessary tools there, at her disposal."

Considering all that there was to be done as captain of the largest Federation vessel in the galaxy, that most of his waking and sometimes sleeping hours were taken up with the duties serving the ship, he, long ago, had found that sitting at rest and merely speaking of his mighty Enterprise was a near luxury.

Pausing the log, he pulled up a document, an informal dossier for Commander T'Shing. Before he continued on his ruminations about her, he wanted to be sure of some information. He knew she'd be bringing her own formal dossier chip, but there were always informal reports, freely circulated among the Starfleet ships, generally in the form of informal letters from ships' commanders.

While perusing the file, a familiar voice called, "JeanLuc?"

"Yes Dr. Crusher?"

"I understand the new veterinarian will be coming on board soon. I wanted to get a jump on doing her medical review but I can't, for the life of me, remember what her home planet is. Do you know, by any chance?"

Smiling, Picard answered, "She was born on Dolanzia."

"Of course! I should have known. I had an uncle who was a farmer on Beta Centauri VI who swore by Dolanzites. They're a genetically altered race of farmers, aren't they? I remember him saying a Dolanzite could raise crops on dry rock in an average temperature of minus ten degrees Celsius and still get a double yield. He also said that they managed animals so well it was as if they could talk to them."

Captain Picard's eyes softened as he answered, "Before I made my plans to join Starfleet known to my father, he'd had hopes of sending me to one of the agricultural colleges on Dolanzia."

"Oh, that's right, your family has a grape farm."

Picard winced as he corrected, "A vineyard. Yes, he thought that by sending me to the finest agricultural school in the Federation I'd be able to make our wine grapes the best in France. He considered Dolanzian schooling to be the next best thing to being a Dolanzite."

Picard would have continued reminiscing except that Dr. Crusher interrupted. "They all come from a variety of races, don't they? I seem to recall they are part Vulcan and part Sirian among others."

"I believe that's so, Doctor." He paused briefly. "Was there anything else?"

"No, I just needed the name of the planet. Thanks. Crusher out."

The Captain turned back to the informal dossier. The last entry read:

'Commander T'Shing is a talent of the genius class and her career with us has been an interesting experience. Though of amiable, even attractive personality, she doesn't often socialize with crewmembers, saying she prefers the company of the animals she tends to. Her devotion to her art is clear and she has proven herself many times, earning several commendations from the Fleet. She's also received awards from entire planets whose animals she saved from destruction.'

The unofficial dossier continued listing her service record, a specific list of the acclamations, an impressive list of awards from grateful people as well as other comments from her commanding officers. Actually, the letter was all that Picard was interested in, since her service and awards were quite well known to him and confirmed that she was just what the Enterprise deserved.

However, knowing that bad news about officers in the fleet did not travel with any great speed, he wondered about the cryptic comment about her career being an 'interesting experience' for Starfleet could mean. It could imply anything. Picard had had previous experiences with people designated as genius, each of which had been varied and complex in the extreme. Genius could mean a self-tortured soul such as Tam Elbrun ('_did Tin Man and Tam escape the nova?'_), or it could mean a torturing devil such as Q. It could also mean a well-balanced and absolutely delightful individual such as Beverly Crusher's young son, Wesley Crusher.

Picard ended his reverie. "Log continue: I'm honored to receive the services of Commander T'Shing in spite of the veiled warning of the informal profile. When she arrives with her official dossier, I'm sure I'll be put at better ease. I firmly believe she'll be an asset to the Enterprise."

"Captain Picard, we're about to beam the new veterinarian aboard, transport room four." Chief O'Brien's voice was quiet and sure as usual.

"Thank you, Chief. Strike last three words from the Log, end personal log." The Captain of the Enterprise stood, tugged slightly at his uniform blouse, and exited his office.

Passing through the bridge to the turbolift, Picard noticed that Data was not at the ops station in front of the view-screen. Instead, an ensign in his place. In fact, Worf, seated in the command chair on the primary floor of the bridge, was the only senior officer present. This assured Picard, that the ship was running smoothly in the hands of people, not as experienced as the regular crew, but who capable and were taking every opportunity to learn and gain seasoning. "Worf?"

"Sir?" The craggy faced Klingon was more relaxed than usual, but not happy. He was a warrior, born and bred for battle; peace and quiet were all very well but did not fit his talents. He was impatiently looking forward to some time off and running his holodeck combat-training program. If duty would not keep him at peak fighting edge, then pleasure would.

"I'll be in transport room four, greeting our new veterinarian. Once she's come on board, the Arizona will depart and you may then direct our course to Kron III at warp five.

Worf replied. "Yes, sir, warp five,"

The Captain, as well as Worf, glanced at the ensign sitting at the ship's power control station, next to ops. The young woman had heard and was already keying in the instructions.

In the turbolift, after stating his destination, Picard raised his head. "Computer, what is Commander Riker's location?"

The quiet, distinctively feminine computer voice replied, "Commander Riker is in Ten Forward."

TBC to Chapter 2

Questions? Comments? Feedback, please.


	2. Ten Forward

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Guinan practices old skills. Data practices new skills. Riker and Picard greet a new crewmember.

Chapter 2

Guinan, the Ten Forward hostess, was standing behind the bar, doing what she did best, passing the time of day with patron and much more. Not pausing in her conversation, she couldn't help but notice Data's obvious too-jaunty air as he came through the lounge doors.

Unaware of Guinan's scrutiny, Data looked about the crowded room until he spotted a table where Commander Riker, Ensign Ro, and Lieutenant Commander LaForge were seated and paused a moment to examine an internal mode in his positronic brain. Apparently reassured, a smile grew on his gold tinged face, he hitched his shoulders and advanced on his friends. "Ah, Geordi, how nice to see you." He put out a hand.

Geordi looked first at the hand, then up into Data's face, over at his two companions and back to Data. "What gives, Data?"

"I think he's offering to shake hands," Ro chimed in.

"Yes, Ensign Ro, you are correct. Geordi, when someone extends a hand, you are expected to take it and give it a shake." Data paused. "Do I not have accurate information?" He pushed the hand at Geordi.

"But, Data, what's with the fake hand?"

Withdrawing the proffered extremity, Data pushed his own hand out through the sleeve still holding the bogus appendage by the rod which extended out the end of the wrist. Examining it, he said, "You were not fooled, then?"

Geordi flashed his brilliant smile as he chuckled. "No, Data, I wasn't fooled. Why did you want to fool me? Grab a chair, sit down, explain."

"Grab—Ah!" Data took a seat. "What was it that gave me away?" He laid the plastic hand on the table.

"Data, you know my VISOR can detect the difference in composition between that thing and your hand, so, why were you trying to fool me?"

Riker, slouching characteristically in his chair, was seated sideways to the table to allow him to stretch out his long legs. He leaned an elbow on the table and spoke up, "Yes, Data, what're you up to now?"

"I will explain, Commander Riker. Yes, Geordi, I knew your VISOR allows you vision capabilities beyond normal human range, but I was hoping that my manner was casual enough that you would take the hand before noticing its structure."

"But why?" asked Ensign Ro. The intense young Bajoran woman leaned forward, her elaborate ear-clip jewelry glinting from the light from inside the table.

"You boning up on practical jokes now?" Riker picked up the hand and examined it.

"Actually, Will, Ensign Ro, I was practicing a bit of slight of hand."

The three listeners at the table looked stunned then in unison groaned. The wrinkles on the bridge of Ensign Ro's nose deepened as she closed her eyes. Riker's head sank so that his bearded chin rested on his chest. Geordi's lips curled in distaste.

"Have you taken ill? Should I summon Dr. Crusher?" Data looked genuinely alarmed.

Riker was first to recover. "Puns, no less! Are you practicing puns now? Is that what this is about?"

Geordi La Forge reached out to stay Data who was about to signal his com' insignia, apparently to summon aid. "We're not really sick, Data, it's just a normal reaction to puns."

The android turned his attention inwards a moment. "Ah! Puns; the humorous use of two words having the same or similar sounds or of, as in this case, two different, more or less, incongruous meanings of the same word. Also known as paronomasia." Data looked up, "No. I am not studying puns but I see how you could have construed my words to that meaning." Data paused again. "I will have to take the consideration of the study of puns at a later date. It could be quite interesting."

He picked up the plastic hand and seemed to look at it with new interest. "I could say I was walking alone and yet walking hand in hand, for instance, or, I could—".

Riker cocked an eyebrow and said, "If you don't mind Data, I'd just as soon you don't explore the possibilities here or now."

"I agree. Please don't." Ensign Ro looked more stern than usual. "And when you do decide to enter that region of verbal abuse, do it someplace that I'm not likely to be."

"I do not understand," Data said.

"And at this point," Geordi spoke gently, "I don't think we need explore the difference between people who enjoy puns and those who don't. You and I can talk about, this later."

Data looked at his companions' faces, which ranged from looks of slight worry to mild disdain. "All right." The matter for him was closed.

After waiting a moment of silence, Geordi then burst out, "So, what was the bit with the hand?"

"Oh! Yes! What I meant by slight of hand was prestidigitation, legerdemain, hocus-pocus, making something seem what it is not."

"Magic! You were trying out magic tricks on us?" Geordi's amazement at what his mechanical friend could come up with was evident.

"Yes, it is also described in that way. I am starting with the rudiments of the art. Much of what you call 'magic' is the redirection of the attention of the audience. There are many ways to redirect attention and one is to direct it at the trick itself while acting as if there is no trick. My intention was simply to get you to shake the counterfeit hand by offering it in a casual manner. Then I would have released my hold on the stick, and given you the impression you had partially disassembled me. I hoped you would be concentrating on my face and my gesture, not the hand, and that it would seem to have magically departed from my arm at your touch. But," he looked puzzled, "It did not go as well as I had hoped. Why did you stop to examine my hand? Is it not common for acquaintances to shake hands? Did I make a mistake in the way I offered it?"

"Well, first, ol' Buddy," Geordi settled into one of his favorite roles, that of mentoring Data, "Yes, some friends do shake hands every time they meet but we don't. I thought you were handing me something, so I looked to see what it was."

"Well, in effect, I was handing you something." Data cocked his head ever so slightly.

Riker and Ro both winced.

"Uhhh, yeah. You were going to work on puns later, remember?"

"They do seem to be self generating. Please continue, Geordi."

"That's all. Your effort at misdirecting my attention by directing it to the hand backfired. You have never offered to shake hands before. You might as well have said, 'Don't look at the fake hand I'm offering to you.'

Ro spoke, taking the bogus appendage from Riker. "So, why are you studying magic?"

"I am fascinated by the human ability to be delighted by surprise, to be fascinated by trickery, and the apparent preference to wonder rather than identify. I thought that by performing such trickery on people with whom I am acquainted, I could more closely observe the human reaction."

"Next time," observed Riker, "you'll have to choose your mark more carefully."

Data cocked his head again and said, "My mark?"

Riker spoke up, "A term meaning the person you have chosen to con or fool."

Data glanced down in his internal search mode again and then looked up. "Yes, that term is used but usually with a disreputable tone to it. I had no wish to cheat or to gain funds but merely to mystify and cause wonder. However, I think I understand your meaning and I agree. I have much to learn."

Geordi sat back in his chair. "Is this how you're going to spend the free time we get on this mission? Learning to do magic tricks?"

"And what sort of audience to play to, yes."

Riker's communicator beeped. Touching the insignia on his chest, he quietly answered, "Riker."

Captain Picard's voice said, "Our new veterinarian is about to be transported aboard. I'd like you to be on hand to greet her, Number One. I'll meet you in Transport Room Four."

Riker was rising as he spoke, "On my way." There was no need for parting words among the crew of the Enterprise.

&&&&

How Guinan could hear a conversation halfway across the Ten Forward Lounge, no one knew, but she could. Not only was she quite aware of the conversation between Data and his three friends, but also every word of every occupant in the room including those of the young officer. As always, she quietly filed all she heard into her unfathomable mind, and, in this case, she put the subject of Data and prestidigitation under 'Interesting, possible future reference.' She was doing the same with what she was hearing from the young man at the bar in front of her.

"I just wish I knew where I'd gone wrong." Even a newcomer into the conversation would have known that he'd said this several times in the last few minutes.

"She hasn't said anything to you, right?"

"Not a word! I can't get hold of her. Her shifts have changed so that when I'm working she's asleep and when I'm free she's working and—"

"Has it occurred to you that maybe there's something going on in her life that she doesn't care to discuss with you? That maybe you're not at fault here, or that there's some other factor that you just don't know about? There could be a hundred different answers, and most of them have nothing to do with you personally. Look, until you know more, maybe you should stop beating yourself over the head."

"It's not only that. I just miss her company. I thought we were friends. We saw eye to eye on almost everything and what we didn't agree on we liked to discuss to death. We both liked to do the same things, play the same sports."

"Okay, Okay, I get you. Hey, what's her name? If she comes in here, I'll drop your name and say you're open for some talk." Guinan's roles as hostess were many and varied.

The young man's face creased in a smile. "Thanks, Guinan. I'd appreciate it. Her name is Zidadit…"he paused. "I always have trouble with the second part of her name." He stuck his tongue between his lips. "Thferitt. You would recognize her as soon as you saw her. She's a big girl, about my height, broad shoulders and her skin has a slight blue tinge to it."

"Blue? Like an Andorian?"

"I'm pretty sure she's not Andorian. No horns, you know?"

"But she's blue."

"Yeah, and tall. Look, if you see her, tell her I'm sorry for whatever I did, tell her…"

Guinan nodded, listening impatiently. She held up her hand in the universal 'halt' signal. "Got it. All I can do is just mention your name and say you'd like to hear from her, no more. If that doesn't seem appropriate, not even that. I'm not a message service, Okay?"

"Guinan, the fact that you're even listening to me makes me feel better. Thanks. Think I'll even sleep better tonight. See you later." He almost inhaled the last drop of his drink, returned the glass to Guinan, turned and strolled away.

Guinan nodded and watched the young man depart. She seemed to mull over all he had said, nodding ever so slightly. Then she shook her head in disbelief, and grinned a humorless smile. The sound of a boisterous laugh broke her reverie and she turned to see what she could do to help the next customer.

&&&&

Captain Picard met his first officer in the corridor a short way from the transport room. "I believe I've found someone to perform the wedding ceremony, Captain."

"I wish I could do it, but they decided on the very date we will arrive at Kron. Who will be doing the honors?"

"A Dr. Tho, in the geology science lab. He knows the two grooms well, and he used to be something like a minister on his home planet."

Entering the transport room, Picard continued the conversation. "Good, I'm glad to hear it, Number One." He nodded in acknowledgment towards Chief O'Brien standing at the ready at the transport controls. "Is she ready to come aboard?"

The softest hint of Irish brogue tinged O'Brien's reply, "There'll be a delay of about two minutes sir. The Arizona wanted to take this opportunity to calibrate their transport beam with ours. We found a slightly irregular modulation and they're correcting it now."

Picard raised an eyebrow in slight disapproval. "I thought you'd have had time for that before now."

The engineer chief shook his head, all the while keeping an eye on the board. "Sir, this is the Arizona's shakedown cruise. There's never enough time."

Riker grinned as he said, "There's probably a nervous veterinarian standing beside the transport platform, swearing she'd rather swim through space naked rather than travel by a perfectly functioning transporter, much less take a chance with one that has a modulation variation."

"Hmmm, yes, I daresay. No doubt pleading for a shuttle. I wonder what it is about medical people that they dislike the transporter? Most are absolutely practical in almost every fashion, but become blithering idiots at the notion of being electronically disassembled and reassembled. Even Beverly Crusher mumbles of the evils every time she enters a transport room."

"Ready to beam the new Veterinarian aboard, sir," interrupted O'Brien.

The conversation ended as the transport shimmer began to glow on the platform.

TBC to Chapter 3

Questions? Comments? Feedback, please.


	3. A New Crewmember

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Doc D'Jang assumes her duties

Chapter 3 

"My! How I love that feeling." The figure was speaking almost before the shimmering around her had died. As so many people did, she paused to check her hands, arms, and then, her legs, making sure all had been reassembled in the right order, but instead of acting as if she were suspicious that were not enough pieces, she appeared greatly astonished that none had been added. The inspection was brief and, looking around, she cried out, "Captain Picard isn't it? I was enjoying the transport effect so much I nearly forgot myself. I am honored." She almost extended her hand as she was about to step off the platform, but then she paused, "Whoops! Almost forgot, 'Salute and greet the Captain of the ship by saying, 'Permission to come aboard, Sir', and then wait for acknowledgment.'" Tall, slightly plump, forty-ish (though she would have said that she was 'of a certain age', in the French tradition, meaning that she might be over thirty-five if she cared to admit it, which she didn't), the woman raised a slightly slanted eyebrow and with a mischievous grin and a wicked sparkle in her light brown eyes, briefly touched her forehead.

Picard was always taken slightly off guard when Starfleet regulations were bent by the different personalities. Most people either performed the rules and regulations or ignored them, but she seemed to be mocking them. He preferred formalities; they gave him time to size up the newcomer, to get the measure, so to speak. Aware that he had a tendency to become somewhat stiff when the forms were sidestepped or bent (the word overcompensation drifted about in the back of his mind), he countered her relaxed attitude with more formality than he really felt. "Permission granted. Welcome aboard. You can now present your record disc if you wish to be exactly regulation."

"'…while stating title, name and rank.'" she answered back. "Veterinarian Dr. T'Shing D'Jang, Commander, reporting for duty.'" With a sprightly, almost girlish step, the vet came off of the transport dais and handed Picard a small disc. "There. That's done with. Now, hello there, I'm Doc D'Jang. T'Shing is actually my last name and the formal address is Dr. T'Shing but most people just call me Doc D'Jang or just plain D'Jang." She extended her hand. "You are Captain Picard, aren't you?"

Hesitating for only a moment Picard decided that formalities had been met after all, however informally. He smiled politely, took the computer disc and then her hand and said, "Yes, I am Captain JeanLuc Picard and this—"

The doctor was ahead of him. She swung around. "Is Commander Riker, first officer of the Enterprise. Hello, I've heard of you." Their height being nearly the same, she smiled directly into his blue eyes.

Taking her extended hand, he responded conversationally, "Welcome aboard. Heard what? Good things, I hope?"

She grinned mischievously back at him. "Well, what wasn't good, was absolutely delicious."

He displayed his, 'this could be an interesting association,' grin at the doctor and glanced quickly at Picard past her shoulder, and was met with the captain's best dispassionate, nonjudgmental gaze.

D'Jang, suddenly changing gears, disengaged from Riker and said, almost soberly, "But we can discuss you at a later time. I'd very much like to see the Animal Board and Clinic now."

Captain Picard asked, "Wouldn't you first like to see where your quarters are and meet some of your shipmates? We thought perhaps a short tour, to help you get settled in. We are so pleased to welcome a veterinarian of such outstan—"

Dr. T'Shing smiled as she interrupted. "I'd rather see my new charges. Please? I can do the rest later, can't I?"

"Well, of course, as you wish, but I would like to say a word of wel—"

"Captain, just by greeting me personally, you've made me feel very much honored and welcomed, thank you. Now, I really believe I should get on with my duties. May I be excused?" She turned as if to go.

Picard quickly reassessed this woman who, up to now, well, had been acting a little, perhaps, unprofessionally? Now, even though the tone of her words was soft, Picard heard an undercurrent of official decision. "Of course," replied Captain Picard. He spoke quickly to avoid being interrupted. "I have been looking forward to your arrival," and then decided not to push his luck. "Commander Riker, will you escort Dr. T'Shing to the Animal Board and Clinic? I'll revue your records, Doctor, and pass the disc on to Dr. Crusher, our ship's doctor. You can get them from her at your convenience. Carry on."

Watching the captain exit through the doors, the ship's new veterinarian remarked, "A bit rigid, isn't he, though, I must say, he does the 'by the book' formal, routine nicely. An excellent commanding officer, I hear. Seems like a fine man."

"Yes, I think so." Riker's smile betrayed his admiration, while he speculated on whether she passed judgment so freely on everyone she met. "Come, I'll show you to the Menagerie."

"The what?"

"An affectionate title for the Animal Board and Clinic. We don't stand much on formalities on the Enterprise." Riker ignored her staring look. "And speaking of informalities, there's a place we call Ten Forward. When you get a chance, I'd like to meet you there and talk about just what it is you've heard about me."

"I'd love to. Among other things, I've heard, just talking with you could be a never-to-be-forgotten experience."

Riker found his arm being cuddled against the very feminine body. Who, he wondered, was going to escort who, and where? Was she some sort of sex craving maniac or just plain fun? Shades of Lwuaxanna Troi!

"By the way," he said more to get her direct attention from himself as much as anything, "Did you know that Captain Picard practically moved heaven and earth to get you assigned to the Enterprise? He thinks very highly of your talents."

Dr. T'Shing shrugged, "I'm sure he did. I suppose he had a nice little speech prepared to extol them all, too, only, I really didn't want to hear the routine again. You know, I'm glad to be on the best ship in Starfleet but…"

After a moment of silence Riker urged, "But?"

She looked into his eyes as they entered a turbolift. "But I didn't get this post because of any efforts or because of my training. I'm the best in my field because of a peculiar linking of DNA in my genetic makeup. Riker, not only am I a telepathic freak but I'm also a genius of high magnitude. I can't help but to do what I do better than anyone else in the Federation. Having received this praise all of my life, I try to avoid hearing more of it whenever I can."

"Are you tired of the work?"

"Great Goddarah! No! Work? What I do isn't work, it's my joy! Working with all animals of the universe is the most incredibly wonderful experience I can imagine. It's the unending human praise and adoration I can do without."

Exiting the turbolift, the two walked almost idly down the corridor.

"I'll try to let Captain Picard know about your sensitivity."

Considering less than a second, she answered, "You don't have to; I think he's already aware of it. He doesn't miss much, that man."

Riker wondered if her telepathic abilities extended beyond sensitivity to animals. She'd hardly met Captain Picard and had read him like a book. Deanna would love to have a talk with her he was sure.

The two arrived at the Menagerie, entering through a side door to the small animal boarding area. No sooner had the doors opened when Commander T'Shing abruptly abandoned Riker, without looking back, without any thank you or comment of any sort. He felt a slight shock at the break in contact. It was as though he had ceased to exist for her.

Heading straight for the first bank of small cages in the room, she ignored a medical technician working at the far end of the row. The Tech moved swiftly towards what she perceived to be an intruder, officer or no, who was opening a cage without so much as a hello. "Is this one yours? Perhaps you'd better let me help."

"Oh, very good, I'll have to remember that approach. Hi!" She stuck out her hand. "I'm Doc D'Jang, the new vet, here. What's your name?" Without pausing for an answer as she shook with one hand, she continued opening the cage with the other. "And what do we have here?" She pulled the clear door open and reached in and pulled an ugly, grey creature out from the dim interior. "Ah, yes, a tifuareg from Andor V." The grunting thing, hardly more than half a meter in length, turned its twitching snout up to the woman's face, and after a couple of seconds, opened a gaping maw filled with five venomously green tongues, all twisting, and writhing. A tender look filled the veterinarian's face as she said, "Oh, yes, I think you like me. Well, you are precious, aren't you?" Smiling she dumped the hairless porcine looking creature back into the cage. Going to the next, she opened the door and pulled out something else. Only when she had an armful of many-legged fur did she say to the rather concerned technician, "Now if you have something to do, go ahead, while I get acquainted here. If there are any emergencies, I'll come running."

The young woman turned inquiring eyes to Riker, who returned the look with a neutral stare. He didn't care to influence someone else's command or to enjoin any questioning of command. The Lieutenant would just have to wait for explanation from her new commanding officer.

Riker also knew he wasn't needed any more. He wondered if the new animal doctor would ever inquire as where her quarters were, and had his doubts. He'd have laid odds that she lived with, as well as for, the animals.

&&&&

Two days later, Ensign Ro, a glass of synthahol in front of her, nudged at Troi. "Who's that?"

Disturbed from her joyful contemplation of the chocolate sundae in front of her, the Betazoid counselor turned to see Dr. Beverly Crusher and the newest officer on board heading towards them.

"I finally had to shanghai this one to get her to come here. Keiko O'Brien, one of our botanists, Ensign Ro, Engineering, Ship's Counselor Deanna Troi, this is Dr. T'Shing D'Jang-dall, the ship's new veterinarian."

"Just call me D'Jang, that's my first name, actually. Call me Doc D'Jang, if you want to be formal." She stuck out her hand. "And I can't stay, really, I can't. Too much to do, can't waste time here chitchatting. Sure you're all lovely ladies and all…" Before she could finish her sentence, D'Jang felt her knees buckle as a chair was pushed under her. She turned to see a calm face, smiling benignly down at her.

"Hello, I'm Guinan, your hostess. May I bring you something?"

While Guinan spent a bit of extra time preparing a particularly tempting brew of coffee, Deanna could feel Ensign Ro was reacting to what she felt was a slight from this newcomer. She knew that, ranking officer or no, anyone saying that she was just too, too busy to associate with her friends, could not be allowed by without a challenge from the proud Bajoran. Before she could defuse the feisty young woman, she heard her casually say, as if to no one in particular, "Did you guys know that on Bajor, pets are considered to be a useless burden? We keep animals only as a food source."

D'Jang rose to her feet, with an emotional response intense enough to set off Deanna's internal alarms. She was about to encourage Ro to explain, but saw it was too late for that and could only watch.

Arriving just in time to intercept the doctor with the coffee, Guinan passed the cup just under the vet's nose, allowing her to sniff the aroma. The ploy sat the woman down again, and, in that importantly casual tone she could employ, Guinan quietly asked, "I was wondering, can you hear sentient thoughts as well as those of animals?" Guinan nodded a silent acceptance of the appreciation from the others for her skills, while the doctor started answering in quiet conversational tones.

"No, I don't hear self-aware thoughts. I suppose it's the difference between, say, sound waves and radio waves. That's not even a good analogy because I don't really 'hear' animals. Animal thoughts aren't organized into patterns that can be recognized as speech. Remember, most animals have only meaningful sounds. Nor do they have organized thought patterns, but they do have feelings, drives, and sometimes, basic concepts. I pick up on what we call the neuro-vibrations of these brain activities and I've come to know what they mean."

"So, your talent is an awareness heightened by training much like mine is." The counselor was so fascinated by this concept, she no longer idly scraped at the bits of chocolate sauce in the empty dish.

"Wel-l-l, sort of, Deanna. As I understand it, you catch an emotion but then, have to wait for clues as to where they stem or at what they are directed. My distance range is far more limited than yours is but I can understand far more. For instance, you can feel the pain of illness but you need Beverly's expertise in determining just what sort of illness it is. I can sense the idea that an animal is ill, and then I can also determine whether it's an infection, or broken bone, and pretty much where in the body it is."

Guinan's large head covering bobbed slightly as she spoke, "Just how limited is your range?"

"About three meters, maximum. I understand you can perceive emotions from thousands of kilometers, Deanna."

As usual, when the attention was directed at her, Deanna became uncomfortable. She smiled shyly and squirmed a bit in her chair. "Well, yes. I've been checked as far as eight thousand kilometers, but for a Betazoid that's not very far. And as you pointed out D'Jang, my talent is very general."

"Oh, Deanna, don't downplay what you can do. You're always boosting the morale of others, give yourself a pat now and then," urged Keiko.

Deanna, always the encouraging one, knew when she was being handed her own medicine from someone else's spoon, "All right, then, I do what I do and very well and from as far as eight thousand kilometers." She smiled at her own forthrightness, as she looked around at her friends' faces. "I also believe everyone at this table has extraordinary talent."

"You know," said Guinan, "It's very nice to be hostess to some of the most extraordinarily gifted women in the known federation." She ignored the veterinarian's slightly tightened lips. "And, since I'm an extraordinarily gifted hostess, it is most fitting that you should receive my services."

Everyone at the table laughed.

TBC to Chapter 4

Questions? Comments? Feedback, please.


	4. Greetings

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: The new mission is under way. Visitors arrive on the Enterprise

Chapter 4

"Captain Picard." Worf's gruff voice sounded tense.

"Yes, Mr. Worf?"

"Sir, we're coming within orbit range of Kron III. There is another ship in orbit, and it is not a Kron vessel."

"Yes, Worf, the Ferengi presence was expected."

"Sir, it is not a Ferengi ship. It is Romulan."

Picard, accompanied by Counselor Troi, was moving out of his ready room and stepping to the center of the bridge seconds after Worf had completed the last word. "Screen on. Have you detected any hostile actions on their part?"

"No sir. They're in communication with the planet. They have no armament at ready and there are no shields up."

"Send them a hail."

"Yes sir."

"Number One, what do you make of this?" Picard turned to Riker who had already risen from the central command chair.

"Beats me. I take it you had no notification of their being here?"

Picard turned back to the screen on which was centered the oddly shaped malevolent ship. "No, I didn't."

Worf spoke from his command station. "Sir, the Romulan ship is answering our hail."

"On screen, Mr.Worf."

The screen changed views from that of the ship to the seated figure of a Romulan. Once part of the Vulcan race, the Romulans were unknown to the Federation a bare eighty-five years previously. Their existence had even been forgotten by the Vulcans, though whether on purpose or accident was shrouded in their early turbulent history. The Romulans were as dedicated to war and discord as the Vulcans had become dedicated to logical harmony. Centuries of complete separation, originally caused by opposition in ideals and beliefs, had also wrought a separation in physical appearances. Where Vulcans had become pale and lean, the Romulans were flushed dark with warrior thick bodies; where Vulcans spoke with ascetic reticence born of constant consideration of the logic of their words, the Romulans launched their thoughts with considered aim.

"Captain JeanLuc Picard, commander of the USS Enterprise. Who do I have the honor of addressing?" His smile looked like a picture cutout pasted on his face.

"Commander Lareth, of the Romulan Empire vessel, Timarock. Greetings. The Kronatina were just telling me they were expecting your arrival, momentarily. They are quite excited." The Romulan's face was grave but not threatening.

"Yes. We're here on a diplomatic mission of peace."

"So we heard." Something that might pass for a smile almost approached the Romulan's lips.

Picard decided to stop smiling. "And your intentions?"

Again the almost smile. "We're hoping to negotiate a trade agreement, Captain Picard."

Why was it, Captain Picard wondered, whenever a Romulan spoke his name, it sounded like a curse?

The Romulan continued. "We had heard about this new civilization and its possibilities of trade resources. Actually, we waited until we heard the Federation was sending someone to start negotiations. We could have been here first, of course; it is rather close, albeit in an unsettled area of the Romulan Empire, but because we have respect for the Federation, we decided it best to wait for you. After all, this is a Federation discovery."

"We're already hoping they will eventually become part of the Federation."

The Romulan moved a hand as if to dismiss the remark. "Well, that remains to be seen, but we would very much like to trade with them, whether they join your little band or no. That is within our rights under the latest treaties, I believe?"

Admiral Podyznit had mentioned that the latest peace negotiations, under the famed Mr. Spock's directions, had brought about an agreement of limited mutual trade but she'd said she didn't think they would act upon it yet. Even old hands at the trade tables could be mistaken.

The captain granted the Romulan a small curling of his lips. "Entirely within your rights. In fact, we were expecting to see a Ferengi trading vessel here. They'd informed us of similar intentions. I'm surprised they aren't here."

"They were here when we arrived. We hailed them, but they decided to leave. I suppose they'll return later." Though lightly said, the Romulan disapproval of the Ferengi was obvious.

Picard had no doubt that 'later' meant shortly after the arrival of the Enterprise. He wondered if there had been words between the vessels over and above a mere hail of recognition. Well, no matter, he'd speculate on the whereabouts of the Ferengi vessel at another time. "I've been given to understand that we're to be greeted by the Kronatina with some ceremony before entering into talks with their diplomats. Are you to be so honored?"

The Romulan stopped his attempt at smiling. "No. In fact, we've informed the Kronatina that we don't wish to be celebrated, that we wish to begin talks as soon as possible. They are making preparations for a conference room now."

"I see. Well, I hope you achieve an agreement. If there's anything we can do to aid you, please let us know. We'll be here for quite some time."

The Romulan nodded acquiescence, "Don't worry, Captain Picard, we won't harm your new little friends. We'll keep our claws sheathed. Trade is all we're here for, this time." Commander Lareth gave a slight nod to someone off screen. The screen image returned to the exterior view of the ship. The Romulans had ended transmission.

Picard turned to Counselor Troi, "Well?"

"I couldn't detect much; the Romulans are very good at covering their emotions. What I could sense was exactly what his words projected; they're here for trade, nothing else. They seem to have no ulterior thoughts." Conscious, as always, that she couldn't sense complete thoughts like most full Betazoids could, Deanna made the very most of her available gifts.

When Deanna had concluded her assessment, Picard went through a characteristic series of movement. He thrust his jaw forward, raised his chin, and inhaled sharply as he twisted his torso while his eyes remained on the view of the Romulan ship. Finally, he said, "Mr. Worf, please see that the Romulans are kept under instrument surveillance at all times. Ensign," he turned to the helm station where Ro was seated, "Put us into the same orbit as the Romulan vessel, no deeper and no higher and just far enough away to keep them from being nervous."

Though Ensign Ro's personal arguments were with the Cardassians, she was not above having salt ready for any Romulan wounds she could find. She enjoyed the brief inner calculation of how close she could bring the Enterprise to the Romulans, and maybe just raise the hackles a little, without annoying them into action.

Captain Picard turned to Riker.

Riker replied to the unspoken remark. "When the Ferengi arrive, you expect they'll assume the same orbit only on the other side of us. We'll be a buffer between the two." He rose from his seat and stood beside the captain, staring at the view screen.

Picard turned his eyes to the view of the enigmatic vessel. "It probably won't help."

Riker smiled at the shorter man as he narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, but it couldn't hurt."

Having established orbit, the Enterprise hailed Kron III and almost immediately, were welcomed by a striking display of the Kronatin fleet of space and air ships. Though the vessels were of primitively quaint designs, they were also uniquely beautiful, being coated with a material that reflected light prismatically. The light in space being unmodified, unlike that filtered through their golden-pink atmosphere, the air vehicles reflected differently from their space sisters, and as the air ships soared high into the stratosphere and the space ships dipped as low as they dared they created beautiful patterns. The beauty of the skill and imagination as the hundreds of luminescent specks from the planet in contrast with the brilliant fire of about seventy-five larger embers, impressed the Federation Starfleet observers.

Then they heard a welcoming speech from a high official, who expressed a desire to develop trust and an offer of their goodwill. Then, a second official, A's'kahn'a, apparently the one who was to head the diplomatic team, greeted them. After a pleasant speech (one that seemed familiar in content to speeches offered by most civilized people), he ended with, "And now, we would be most pleased to be welcomed aboard your great starship. We made a similar request of the ones who call themselves Romulans, not of the Federation, but, most regretfully, were refused."

During the ceremonies, Picard had stood, unmoving, smiling graciously, official prime recipient of the welcoming gestures, but the request to board the Enterprise brought him up short. His smile remained frozen, while he nodded, saying, "I'm sure we'll be pleased to have you pay us a visit. Won't you just wait one moment while I make some arrangements to honor your arrival?" He turned from the view screen on the bridge and said, "Discontinue audio please, Mr. Worf. Number One, what reasons could there be to deny such a visit?"

Riker shook his head. "None that I know of. Uh, wait, medical, perhaps?"

Captain Picard tapped his communicator, "Dr. Crusher?"

"Yes Captain?"

"The Kronatina have requested a visit to the Enterprise. Have they been checked out medically?"

Her answer was immediate, "Yes, they have been. The first encounter team did a full medical on the Kronatina as well as general planetary bios scans. Our transporter biofilters have been calibrated to take care of anything communicable from either the Kronatina themselves or even any stray dust they may bring with them."

"Thank you, Dr. Crusher." Captain Picard turned to his chief of security. "Lieutenant Worf?"

"Sir, there is no reason to deny them visitation privileges. They do not even carry personal weapons."

The Captain turned to Commander Riker. "Nothing like being sure your house is in order before receiving guests." He tapped his communicator again. "Guinan?"

After thirty seconds of giving Guinan the responsibility of almost instantaneously preparing a room to receive a diplomatic party from Kron, Captain Picard gave Worf the signal to resume audio, and turned back to his politely waiting viewers. "How soon may we transport you to the Enterprise?"

TBC to Chapter 5

Questions? Comments? Feedback, please.


	5. The Gift

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: The visitors leave a gift

Chapter 5

Within the hour, as a courtesy, all available officers were on the transport deck, ready to greet the arriving Kronatina. As it happened, Beverly was standing across the room from Troi, and D'Jang as their guests arrived. Within seconds of the materialization, she noticed the puzzled expressions on both of their faces. Neither one said anything, though, and since there seemed to be no danger and no further concern, Beverly let the matter slip from her mind.

Perhaps it was the Kronatina's reaction, that had puzzled the two; as the sparkles cleared from their bodies, they all jumped and actually showed signs of bolting. Whether it was the abruptness of the transportation or the strange surroundings, they seemed to come close to panicking but within seconds, calmed down and stood quietly while waiting for their hosts to make the first move.

The Kronatina were all two meters tall or better, clumsy looking, two armed bipeds, covered in shaggy grey fur, squarely and heavily built. Even their pug nosed faces were so covered in fur they looked flat. For clothing, they wore only broad colored belts with matching shoulder halters, and, incongruous with the minimal body decoration, large feathered headdresses. Each 'hat' was fashioned to look like some sort of creature, which hugged the slightly larger than human sized head of the Kronatina. Each had a broad, carapace-covered head with two small, colored stones for eyes. The bodies of the hats, projecting out from the backs of the skulls, were covered in long, multicolored feather-like tendrils, which swept down, over the fur covered backs and shoulders.

At just the right moment Captain Picard stepped forward, opening his arms and showing the palms of his hands in the universal gesture of peaceful intentions. "Welcome to the Enterprise, the largest and most technologically advanced starship in the Federation. I am Captain JeanLuc Picard and this is my first officer, Commander William Riker." He gestured to the others. "These are a few of the ship's officers. They'll introduce themselves as time and opportunity permits."

Stepping from the transporter platform, one of the Kronatina bent down slightly to the shorter captain. As he spoke, his body jerked and lurched so that the feathers of his headdress bobbed about, and his voice sounding something like a large goat's bleat. "I am A's'kahn'a. We are with those who will introduce as we meet. We are sure we will feel honored. We are here to see and to learn. Please show us."

"Welcome, oh, representatives of Kron. We have prepared another room with displays and refreshments. Won't you join us? Please, follow me." The Captain swept his arm towards the door in invitation.

The twelve officers divided themselves evenly among the five Kronatina; Captain Picard, Commander Riker and Doctor Crusher teaming with the A's'kahn'a'. The rest grouped around the remaining aliens, escorting them out of the transport room and down the corridor, introducing themselves as they walked.

Picard immediately decided he'd have to compliment Guinan on her efforts as soon as they arrived in the reception room. The walls had been decorated with holographic views of the interior of the ship, as well charts showing the layouts of several of the decks. Tables set up with scale models of the Enterprise and several other Starfleet ships, as well as models of the Kron ships, meant to display the relative size of each, were scattered among tables of food. One section of one wall was devoted to working models of some of the devices on the ship including a replicator. A holographic reproduction, showing the planet below, complete with existing weather patterns, revolved in mid-air above the central food table.

After a short speech from Commander Riker explaining the purpose of a Federation Starship, the Kronatina were invited to examine the displays and to try a few of the refreshments. The officers had already been briefed to remind their guests that the food had not been brought up from Kron, but had been reproduced in a replicator, the idea being, not to sell replicator technology, but to introduce Federation good will. Oddly, the food, all of it vegetarian per the First Contact reports, was carefully ignored by the visitors.

The officers shifted around from Kronatt to Kronatt, introduced themselves, explained their duties, and politely inquired about each guest. At one point, both Dr. Crusher and Deanna, together, were introducing themselves to an elegantly feathered alien.

"Oh, no, "Beverly was saying, "I only treat sentient beings. We have another medical doctor on board who specializes in animals." Dr. Crusher looked around the room. "I don't see her, right now though."

"She was called away almost as soon as our guests had arrived," explained Deanna. She turned to the furred guest. "You seem to have a special curiosity about the separation between the medical treatment of animals and sentients."

"We do not separate. Our lives are so intertwined with our animals who are also our companions, our friends, when they get sick it is as if we, ourselves, are ill."

Dr. Crusher sighed slightly. "I think you'd enjoy talking with Dr. T'Shing. It's a shame she isn't here. She believes that animals should be much more highly regarded than they are among sentient beings of the Federation. I hope, M'n'kahn'a, that she will return before your visit here is over."

"Yes, I believe we would find her very interesting." The alien moved vigorously while speaking. "We shall wait for her arrival."

Try as they might to engage M'n'kahn'a in conversation for the following half hour, Deanna and Beverly couldn't get a reply. The alien stood passively listening to the two women as they did their best to enjoin him. Apparently, waiting included doing nothing else meanwhile.

Finally, Captain Picard called for the attention of the group. "I am informed that it is now time for us to reconvene on Kron." With a few remarks about looking forward to seeing the planet below, as well as engaging in exploration of paths to a future alliance, the captain then encouraged everyone to go back to the transport room. The ceremonies were over, almost.

Avoiding being ushered out, the chief spokesman, A's'kahn'a raised an arm and shuffled forward a few steps, inclining slightly forward, which the humans had come to recognize as the indication that he was about to address them. The feathered headdress waving, he said, "We are honored to visit such a fine home vehicle. With the first visit from the people of your federation, you impressed us. We learned much then and we would like to learn more. You have talked of our perhaps joining you. We would like you to join with us. We would like to leave a Kronatt here with you, so that you might become better acquainted with us."

Captain Picard was about to reply that no plans had been made host a Kronatt on board the Enterprise for any length of time. Although they very probably could, with no discomfort either to the Kronatt or to the crew, it would be a risk he didn't wish to take now.

Before Picard could give a credible and unoffending excuse, A's'kahn'a turned and motioned to his fellows standing behind him. Two of them turned to a third in the group, and that one, who had previously identified himself as S's'haht'a, stood still while they grasped his halter on each side, one hand on the belt and the other on the shoulder strap and seemed to force S's'haht'a to fall to his knees.

Approaching the trio, A's'kahn'a lifted his four digit hands to S's'haht'a's hat and engaged in a tug of war. Holding S's'haht'a, the two braced themselves while A's'kahn'a gripped the sides of the headdress and pulled away. The contest was quiet and brief, and, in moments, the headdress was removed. Bareheaded, he stood up and looked at his two companions as if for reassurance. Seeing that they were still holding on to him, he began gazing about, as if no longer concerned.

A's'kahn'a carried the headdress to an empty table and carefully put it down. "Our honor would be for a person of this home vehicle to acquaint himself with S's'haht'a'. Perhaps, we could return for him later."

Captain Picard was taken aback for a moment. The gesture and the language seemed plain enough. They meant for the Enterprise to act as host for a fancy chapeau. Well, there were surely no great diplomatic risks here. "I am sure the Enterprise will feel honored by the presence of, uh, one of your, er, part—y. I officially give the honor of acquaintanceship to Captain Riker who will be staying aboard ship. While we continue below, he'll see to your—this fine—the Kronatt you leave here." Picard, while blundering through the suitable thanks was, at the same time, moving towards the exit doors. "Now, I believe you have scheduled a ceremony of welcome on your planet and as I don't wish to seem rude by being late, perhaps we should return now to the transport room?"

Before they would leave the room, however, the five Kronatina insisted on gathering around the table with the headdress. They leaned over, peering at the hat as if considering something. One of them stood and looked toward Captain Picard. There was another pause and then he bowed and said, "He will be taken care of? He will be in the company of your Riker?"

Sensing their concern, Captain Picard became solicitous. "Of course, this is an honored guest. As soon as Commander Riker has seen us all off from the transporter room and I have given over command of the ship, he will return and properly escort your, uh, this, er, Kronatt. Isn't that so, Number One?"

Not as good at diplomacy as Picard but making the effort to play along Riker said, "Of course. In fact, may I suggest that Lieutenant McAmbery here, stay as, uh, an honor guard while I see you all off in the transport room? I'll return as soon as possible, but until then the Lieutenant can be company. Lieutenant?"

"I'd be honored, sir." It was hard to read the stony face but Riker hoped that the Kronatina were not able to understand nuances of the derisive tone in his voice. It was clear that the young man considered that meeting new civilizations was exciting, but that keeping company with an honored hat was not.

Picard didn't let the moment lag. "Excellent suggestion! Come now, the quicker we're off, the quicker Commander Riker can turn his attention to the, ah, guest." Again, Picard was making efforts to herd the group into the passageway and trying not to be pushy about it. Perhaps keeping to a schedule wasn't all that important to them, but time was time, why waste it?

The group began to drift out. The hatless Kronatt, his companions still firmly grasping his belt and halter, allowed himself to be guided.

Once everyone was headed towards transport room Picard stepped up beside Geordi and said quietly, "Get someone to examine the translator. This talk about the hat being a Kronatt doesn't make sense. We can't afford to have glitches in translation now."

"Yes sir. I've got someone who can get right on it as soon as I return to station."

"Good, and keep him on it as long as we're here. Have him constantly monitor the proceedings below and check for any translation flaws. It makes me wonder if they truly have understood anything we've been saying."

"Since they don't seem to have any ruffled feathers, no pun intended, I'd say that any flaws are only coming out to us."

"Perhaps, but I would just as soon not go through diplomacies on a 'perhaps'."

Turning back to A's'kahn'a, Picard delicately inquired if he were having any trouble understanding him. A gesture and a violent nod accompanied the answer, "We do not believe so. Your machine that understands our words, speaks very well."

Captain Picard nodded to no one in particular and muttered to same, "I hope so."

TBC to Chapter 6

Questions? Comments? Feedback, please.


	6. Hosting and Emergency

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Hosting the hat and an emergency in the Menagerie

Chapter 6

Picard had chosen ten crewmembers of the Enterprise for the Away Team. As chief diplomat, he was among the first to depart with two of the Kronatina and two other crewmembers. Before ascending the platform, he turned and said quietly, "Deanna, I think I'd like you to come down with me now, instead of later. With a possible glitch in the translator, I'll need your talents from the moment of arrival. I don't want single word to pass between us without some indication that what we are saying is being understood."

"Yes, of course. If it's any help, I sensed only sincerity on their part during the presentation. Also, a sort of anxiety, but that is in accordance with awarding what they consider as a part of themselves. Perhaps it is only one or two words that have simply been missed in precise translation."

"I hope so but I'm going to keep you by my side at least until I know for sure." As he stepped onto the transport platform, he transferred command of the ship to Riker adding, "I'll keep in touch."

"Good luck, sir."

"Thank you, Number One."

A few moments later, the last of the transport beam hum died and Riker dismissed the remaining crew. Beverly Crusher remained behind.

Will smiled familiarly at her. "Something I can do for you?"

"I just want to see what you do with that hat."

"Thanks for reminding me. The least I can do is relieve Lieutenant McAmbery."

Just then, Doc D'Jang appeared, breathless. "Where's the party? Did I miss it?"

"Over just now. What happened to you?" Riker asked.

"Oh, something they wanted me to deal with in the Menagerie. Will, there's a problem I may want to talk to you about later. I'll let you know. What did I miss?"

"All that's left is a gift they loaned us." Beverly answered enigmatically.

At D'Jang's inquiring looks, Dr. Crusher described the preceding events while they walked back to the reception room. She then asked Riker, "Do you suppose they bob and weave like that in order to show off their feathers?"

"I'd like to know why they insist on talking to our feet. Do you notice how they seem to bend over while they talk?"

Riker explained their guests' behavior to the Veterinarian." At first I thought they were showing off the headgear by doing that."

"Well, maybe the headdress is their official designation. Maybe the idea is to talk with the hat not the wearer. After all, in the military, we acknowledge the uniform not the person wearing it," said Beverly, not entirely sure of her own words. "They did make a big deal out of leaving one hat behind."

"I kept noticing that the one they took the hat from had to be supported by the two others after that. Do you suppose it was the loss of prestige or something? Was it part of a formality?" queried Riker.

They entered the reception room and approached the table where the feathered hat seemed to be crouching. The young lieutenant, who had been chosen to remain, turned from his inspection of one of the models of the Enterprise. "Permission to be excused, sir." Being left behind to stand watch over a hat was obviously not his idea of participating in the diplomatic procedures.

"Permission granted, Lieutenant." Riker smiled at him. "And Lieutenant, well done."

"Thank you, Commander." The look on his face betrayed that he wasn't sure what held done so well. Rather than ask, he took advantage of the permission to leave.

"I wonder if this thing is the carcass of an animal or a made up thing? Do you think I could possibly remove a small pinfeather from it for clinical examination? Hmmm, what does it look like inside?" The veterinarian, attracted to anything that looked like an animal, was drawn to the alien headdress. Before she could get close to the table, her insignia beeped. Sighing in frustration, she answered, "D'Jang here."

"Dr. T'Shing, please return to the Animal Clinic."

"On my way." She turned and started out the doors, calling over her shoulder, "When they call it the Clinic and not the Menagerie it's an emergency. So many animals, so little time."

Riker smiled one of his private little smiles as he watched the receding figure, his chest expanding.

Beverly watched that familiar look. "Going for older women now?" Beverly tried to sound indignant.

"My appreciation of the opposite sex is eclectic. If I were more impulsive, I might even consider acting on that attraction; as it is, I have simply enjoyed the view." Redirecting his attention, he turned to pick up the headdress. "Good thing I didn't have to think about whether I should have let her have a feather from this thing. I mean, hat or not, I don't suppose the Kronatts, uh, Kronatina, would want it to be plucked even in the interest of science." He sighed. "I suppose I could put this in my quarters. Is that being hospitable enough to a 'representative hat'?"

Taking a final look at the hat, Beverly said, "I'd think so. Well, I'm going to get back to work. See you later"

Will reached under the cup brim, as he had seen it handled by the Kronatt, and carried it out of the reception room.

&&&&

The emergency call that had summoned D'Jang concerned an out of control gerkiland, an albino anthropoid with a sharply jagged protuberance from just above the bridge of his nose to his crown, and three rows of razor teeth on upper and lower jaws. Although he weighed about three hundred pounds, the gerkiland was ordinarily a gentle pet, but when Doc D'Jang returned, the Menagerie was in chaos. Lab technicians were huddling behind counters and chairs, equipment was in broken disarray, and a very mad gerkiland was alternately beating on walls and counters, throwing anything it could find and screaming shrilly.

The vet took a dive for protection as soon as she entered the lab narrowly ducking a glass missile, which shattered against the closing door, while animals in cages against the wall grunted, squealed, or screamed in alarm. She quickly found one of her lab techs and heard an account of the situation.

A couple of members of the lab crew had noticed the usually quiet animal was acting oddly, so they'd assumed it was cranky from a lack of exercise. The owner had had a heavy duty-schedule recently, and hadn't been able to come and give the fuzzy ape-like creature the mild exercise it needed, so, the two technicians had brought the gerkiland out of its enclosure and had begun trotting it about.

The young girl ducked and shuddered as another instrument slammed against the wall and clattered to the floor. She said she'd personally witnessed the apparent change from the docile, shuffling 'sweetie' to the now raging beast.

D'Jang listened through the screaming and the pounding. Considering the words only a moment, she shouted her over the continuing racket, "I just made up a new rule of conduct with the animals here. From now on, no one is to take any of them out for a walk without asking me first."

She turned to the scared young woman she shared the protection of the barrier with. "Where is the nearest medi-kit? I need an injector."

Within the next few minutes the vet had anesthetized the raging beast mightily impressing her technicians because she'd made it look so easy. When asked how she'd done it she explained, "One of the nice things about gerkilands is that they expect people to take care of them. All I had to do was act like I was going to take care of him and then do it."

When the technicians all protested that they had been taking care of the beast, D'Jang shook her head and said, "You thought you were. You assumed. You saw a behavior, made a judgment, and carried through. That poor baby has a sore tooth! When you took him out for a walk, he went along, thinking you were going to take care of him. When he saw he was being walked around, but his tooth wasn't feeling any better, well, he got a little testy. I'll have more to say about this later. Right now I've got a tooth to pull and you have the lab to clean up."

Later, after the dental procedure, while the gerkiland was recovering in the safety and comfort of his enclosure, D'Jang turned her attention to her staff. Only then did she stop to ask if anyone had been hurt by the gerkiland's rampage.

After everybody had declared themselves uninjured, she continued, "Okay, we seem to be back to normal. Now I have a few words, especially for those who take sick gerkilands out for good will tours." Everyone froze, waiting respectfully for the wrath of their commanding officer to burn away their uniforms. "Keep up the good work." She shrugged her shoulders at the stunned group. "You tried to help and that's commendable. We're humans and we're supposed to make the mistakes; only animals are faultless."

As she was about to continue, they heard the doors to the reception area swish open, and D'Jang made a gesture to indicate that the crew was to resume their normal duties while she went greet the visitor.

Experienced with any variety of situations she was still not quite prepared for what she saw. A boy, about eight years old, stood wide-eyed, wet faced and out of breath clutching a mottled brown furry lump with bloody hands. He was followed by a woman, presumably his mother, also out of breath; both had pleading looks on their faces.

Not waiting for introductions, D'Jang turned, calling over her shoulder, "In here, quick!" They followed her into one of several small examination rooms. "Put him on the table." The boy could barely reach high enough to lay the limp furry bundle gently on the metal slab. Pushing buttons to start the diagnostics with one hand, she began pulling instruments out of a drawer with the other.

Doc D'Jang turned, eyes on the analytic readout on the wall panel, and laid her hands on the small rabbit. A moment later, leaving one hand on the rapidly breathing creature, she reached for a hypo, thumbed the appropriate mix of medication and dosage, and touched it firmly to its shoulder. Immediately after the brief hiss, the rabbit stretched ever so slightly and was quiet.

The change startled the boy. "Oh," he whimpered and looked with distressed eyes, first at his mother behind him and then at the veterinarian.

"Antibiotics, glucose and anesthesia," D'Jang said quietly to the mother while taking another instrument and working on the wound on the rabbit's neck and back. She continued in a more conversational voice to the child, "She's asleep now and not feeling the pain or the fright. When she wakes up she'll be a little tender on her neck but aside from that, she'll be all right. This must have happened very close to here for you to have come so fast."

"We were 'way over, down at the arboretum. I got here fast because I ran all the way. I can run really fast when I want to. Is Fuzzy really going to be okay?" His eyes never left his pet.

With practiced ease, Doc D'Jang's fingers pulled at the fur covered skin, drawing it over exposed muscle. At the same time, she aimed the twittering instrument, which had a faint blue gleam on its business end, at the joined areas. Frowning in concentration, rather than at the sight of torn and punctured flesh, the veterinarian kept up the conversation. "Yup. In fact," D'Jang stood up from her stoop over the table, "she's fine right now. She'll sleep a little while longer." She nodded at the silent woman behind the boy. "Why don't you help him to wash his hands off over there? I'll clean up the table. Then while we wait for… Fuzzy, is it? Yeah, wait for her to wake up, you can talk to me about how this happened."

TBC to Chapter 7

Questions? Comments? I live for feedback!


	7. Not in Public

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Riker learns what being a host means. A discussion of the problems of translation.

Chapter 7

An hour after he'd transported down, Picard called the ship. "Apparently the Kronatina like to take breaks between their ceremonies, Number One; I'll be able to make regular contact."

"What do they do for their free time?"

"Believe it or not some of them are out frolicking in the large parks that surround the main hall here."

"Frolicking?"

"It's the only word that seems to describe what they're doing. I probably wouldn't have taken notice except that I was invited to accompany them. The translator doesn't have a proper word for the translation yet, so when I was asked if I'd like to 'fuhmantarr' I demurred and asked if it was possible to just watch the first time."

"And you were hoping they weren't asking if you needed to—"

"Exactly. We went outside and had hardly descended the steps, when suddenly the pair I was with broke out running in across the great causeway and onto the park grounds. They tumbled, and leapt, and ran, with an abandon I almost envy. Frolicking, Number One; I don't think there's any other word for it. It was actually quite refreshing to see these diplomats, who have been so very staid and proper, just break out in free play."

Commander Riker decided not to ask if Captain Picard had joined in. "How did the greeting ceremonies go? Any more gifts?"

"No, not yet, anyway. They're truly excited about our being here. They've had delegations from each sector of Kron all parade by just now, nodding at us and gesturing; quite a pleasurable spectacle. I think most of them just came to gawk at the aliens from outer space as much as to be seen by us. It's a shame the Romulans have no appetite for this sort of thing. Speaking of which, have the Ferengi shown up yet?"

"No sir. Worf thinks his sensors may have detected them lurking on the far side of the outermost planet in the system but he can't be sure."

"Hmmm. I suggest sending a wide beam message saying something like, 'safe to return."

"A sort of olly-olly-oxen-free?"

Picard gave his rare friend-smile. "Yes, something like that." He pursed his lips briefly before saying, "I have some more information on what the Kronatina were implying by leaving that headdress on board the Enterprise. Simply acting as hosts is not all they desired of us. Unless the translator is entirely going wrong here, they intended that it should be worn, Number One."

Riker squirmed a bit in his seat. "Oh?"

"By someone of rank."

Riker knew the answer to the next question full well, but he asked anyway. "What rank, sir?"

"Yours, I'm afraid."

Will rose from the command seat and smiled gamely. "Well, Captain, you can tell the Kronatina, that I did put it on and that it was very becoming. I thank them for the honor and privilege."

"I'm afraid that won't do. They want to see you wearing it."

Looking startled. "See me wearing it?"

Picard turned his head from side to side as if to check for eavesdroppers. Seeing only the other members of the away team he continued, "Yes, getting to 'know' that Kronatt, apparently means wearing it."

"Now?"

"No. We're not quite sure of why but they're indicating they wish to wait a period of time, an hour or two. It is on this subject of the hat that the translator seems to be having the most problem. The translation seems to get garbled when we talk of their gift and what they expect us to do with it. They want to see you with it, but only after you've worn it for a couple of hours. Perhaps there's a knack to the wearing and can be done properly only after some practice. They keep saying they want you to have the opportunity to get to know S's'haht'a. They apparently refer to the hat by the name of the person who previously wore it. I think getting to know it means getting used to wearing it."

Commander Riker inclined his head slightly and scowled up at the view screen. "I'll put it on when they want to see me with it, but two hours? Not likely. I put it in my quarters for safekeeping so I got a good look at it. No disrespect intended, Captain, but I have a hard time thinking I'd have to wear it at all much less for two hours."

"I'm sorry, but you'd better settle your mind to it, Number One. Counselor Troi says she senses the greatest amount of anxiety from them on this subject. I see no harm in it." The Captain's voice took on the command tone. "We're here on a diplomatic mission, and if it means dressing in pink tutus and doing the tarantella to show our good will, we would have to do it. They say the headdress itself will indicate whether you've been wearing it for the proper length of time. Even with possible misunderstandings through the translator, I am fairly sure of their meaning, and I am very certain that it is very important to them. Go put the hat on and I'll get back to you. Picard out."

Seeing that his hosts had not yet returned, Captain Picard next contacted Geordi.

"Yes Sir, I'm here with Lieutenant Bundawba now. He's a computer repair engineer and minored in alien communications with the specific purpose of targeting translators. We're standing in front of the schematic displays for translation. "

"And what, Lieutenant Bundawba, have you come up with?" rang Picard's voice via the ship's communications since there was no view screen in the small room.

Unseen by Picard, the young man standing next to Geordi, was very nervous about having to talk directly to the 'Old Man' himself, and tried not to let his voice quaver. "We've only just had time for one diagnostic, and as far as I can tell, the translator is functioning normally, Sir." He paused, looked hopefully at Geordi, who nodded silent encouragement, and took the plunge. "Sir? Lieutenant Commander LaForge explained the one speech anomaly concerning the presentation of the hat, calling it by name as if it were a person, and, to tell you the truth, that isn't much to go on; is there anything else that doesn't seem to make sense?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. They're using a term that's translated as the royal 'we' but their use of it seems inconsistent, because they also use the individual 'I' in the same sentence. I think there have been a few other lapses but I can't be sure. Counselor Troi may have something to add."

Deanna who had been standing quietly beside Picard spoke up. "Lieutenant Bundawba, I'm getting a lot of confusing feedback from the Kronatina. The emotions aren't so different from what I expected and are more or less congruent with the words but the body language is just not in line with the words or with the emotions. Usually all three are synchronized unless the person is lying or is emotionally disturbed in some way. I don't think either is the case here, but I have yet to see the body language agree with either the words or the emotions.

Geordi said, "You mean the way they bounce and twitch when they talk? I thought it might be a cultural thing."

"Yes, I thought so too, at first. Every race has their own body language but there's a certain sense to it all. The puppet-like movements of the Kronatina are just not making sense; they're not in sync with their words or their emotions."

Lieutenant Bundawba asked, "Is it possible their body language has no relation to what they say?"

"I've never come across that situation before. Have you?"

"No, never, but I thought it was worthwhile asking. Can you explain further please, Counselor Troi?"

"I have a rare advantage in that I do have three points of reference where you have only two when getting the sense of what someone is saying. For instance, if you give someone some very sad news and she says she's sad and cries, her body language is verifying her words; but if you give someone some sad news and she says she's sad but doesn't act sad, you don't know if she's sad or not. When I hear someone say she is sad and see her act quite differently, I can check out her emotions and determine her feelings.

"Whether she's lying?" said Geordi.

"Or if she didn't hear the news correctly or simply isn't allowing herself an emotional outbreak. It's like a mathematical problem of triangulation, two known points can establish a third. In the case of the Kronatina I'm sensing a certain amount of anxiety, which could be normal, also a certain amount of withholding of information, which could also be normal. Meanwhile I'm hearing words of careful confidence but seeing completely disjointed body language. In between speaking, they sometimes pick at their fur, sometimes stare into space. Only occasionally do they really seem to make meaningful gestures to emphasize what they're saying. Since I'm not sure if what they're saying is being translated correctly, and since I can't make much sense of their body language, I can't add meaning to their emotions. It's becoming a very odd exercise."

Picard said, "Lieutenant is there some way the Kronatina use words that have been misconstrued? Could the original language programming be at fault?"

"Well, yes, sir. There are two stages to translation. First, the computer works out basic structure and basic words. Meanwhile the people in linguistics match up the basic translation with nuances of tone, body movement or, well, just about anything they can observe. They feed in corrections and the program develops as it goes along. This usually lends accuracy to overall translation, but mistakes can happen.

"Then assuming you haven't missed anything in the physical functioning of the translator I'd like you to get someone from the linguistics lab, to recheck the language program. You complete your diagnostic scans meanwhile."

"Good. They can check against what the Kronatina have said so far, on this mission. There may be a pattern of inconsistencies, which point out a specific bug in the software. Meanwhile I'll finish checking the hardware."

"Good. I'll check with your progress when we have our next break in the ceremonies.

Bundawba spoke, "Sir? One more point I'd like to clear up, just to be sure?"

"Yes? Go ahead."

"One other thing that comes to mind about the way they move. Could they be just so uncoordinated that they can't talk and stay still at the same time? Is it possible they have a problem of spasms?"

Picard smiled a little to himself. The feeling of luck, having people who thought, who really thought, came over him. It was a shame to have to undo the theory. "The idea had occurred here too, but I think we can safely say no. After all, I doubt that they could have developed the technology that took them to the stars if they couldn't control their bodies. Actually, they're quite graceful. The erratic movements take place only during speech, and aren't uncontrolled spasms. As for the spans of what seems to be inattention," he turned briefly to Deanna, "that's more in the Counselor's range of expertise. Perhaps, if need be, you'll be able to transport down and observe for yourself. For now, I'd appreciate all due haste on your diagnostic evaluation. Picard out."

&&&&

After his conversation with Picard, Riker had sat for some moments staring into thin air. Each of the bridge crew, save for Data and Worf, occasionally stole glances at the inert Commander. Word of the 'hat' in regard to its size and style had spread quickly and the idea of the proud and somewhat appearance-vain Riker sporting the wild headgear was intriguing.

Finally, coming to a decision, Riker stood, tugged at his uniform blouse, and spoke. "Worf!"

"Sir?" The Klingon barked.

"Take the bridge. I'll be in my quarters if you need me."

"Sir?"

"If I have to wear that thing, I'll do it in the privacy of my quarters."

"Yes sir. I am in full sympathy with you, Commander." The idea of looking ridiculous for the sake of diplomacy was ludicrous to the Klingon.

"Thank you, Worf." Riker sighed. He turned to enter the turbolift, "I suppose I should be grateful it isn't a pink tutu. I don't look good in pink."

TBC to Chapter 8

Questions? Comments? I live for feedback!


	8. Flirting or What?

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Riker invites D'Jang to his quarters.

Chapter 8

An hour later, Doc D'Jang was just finishing up entering her report in her medical logs on the youngster and his bunny, when she heard the twitter of her communications insignia and then Commander Riker's voice.

"D'Jang, are you free to come to my quarters?"

She didn't take note of the rather throaty quality to his voice or to the familiar use of her name without title.

"Commander Riker? Your quarters?"

"Yes. Can you come?"

"I can, but first, satisfy a curiosity; why your quarters?"

"Well, I could say I have the Kronatt headdress here and remind you of your request for a feather, which is true, but I would also like to just 'talk' with you."

"Just talk? How boring. Just to let you know, the feather sounds like a better excuse. Sure, be right there."

She first checked that the lab was in order, that all broken supplies from the gerkiland's rampage had been disposed of, replicated and stowed away, and made the rounds of the various cages, some made of wire, some made of clear plastic. She clucked, moaned, chittered, and occasionally even sang, as she acknowledged each creature she passed. Some she caressed, some she barely touched, some she just looked at. As she approached the door, she whirled around and waived a finger at the room, empty of people yet filled with life. "Okay, you're all fine, see if you can stay that way for five minutes!" She passed through the opened doors muttering, "Never leave me alone for a minute, hardly a chance to even visit the can."

Entering Riker's quarters, Commander T'Shing found him wearing a somewhat shabby dressing gown. He was also wearing the feathered headdress, which looked quite grand, in a way. Trying not to show that she was somewhat taken aback by the casual dress she laughed and said, "So, this is what the well dressed number one officer at ease wears?" Never having been in Riker's quarters before, she didn't take particular observation of the dim lighting, or of the atypical disorder.

Riker appeared pleased at her humor. He smiled but then seemed struck by something. He began looking hard at the elegantly tall woman in front of him. He moved his head slightly up and then down, then slightly from one side and to the other side.

D'Jang watched this movement, puzzled, but then she shrugged. "Fancy bonnet you got there, fella. Does wonders for you. Can I have a look at it?"

Riker approached closely to the veterinarian, and though speaking casually, his voice was thick, and his slightly perspiring face was flushed. "It seems that getting acquainted with this Kronatt meant wearing it. I thought I'd cause less of a stir if I did so in private." He moved closer "After a while I began thinking of you and your request for the feather, so I thought I'd see if you were free to collect." By this time his face was very close to hers, his voice had dropped to a personal whisper and his eyelids had dropped to half-mast.

Until this point, D'Jang had been enjoying the spectacle, but suddenly her inner alarm bells were going off so she drew back. "You made that sound like you mean if I were free for you to collect me."

"Are you?"

"Excuse me?" Making sexual innuendos in public conversation was one thing, a sexual advance in the privacy of a man's quarters, was another.

Riker took a lock of her hair and began rubbing it gently between his thumb and forefinger, obviously taking pleasure in the sensation. He gazed hopefully into her eyes. "I'd like to collect you," his voice was barely audible, "to have you." The long feathery tendrils, falling on Riker's shoulders and down his back, caught and reflected light, even in the shadowy room.

D'Jang grabbed his hand and removed the strands of her hair from his fingers. She tossed his hand to one side then backed away. "Have me, for what?"

Will reached out to touch her shoulder. "I think you know for what." He caressed the material of the sleeve of her blue and black uniform.

"I haven't been on board long enough to know whether I would want to be collected by you." She brushed his arm away.

"Oh, but I know I'd enjoy it; you're very attractive." His breathing was shallow and rapid, his eyes gleamed with eagerness, and even the faceted eyes on the headdress twinkled.

"You called me here on business but you seem to have personal affairs on your mind. Somehow, right now, I doubt I'll ever want to get to know you well enough for us to get personal; I don't like deceptions for any reason and I don't like to be with deceptive people."

Briefly, Riker looked worried, but then put on his most winsome smile. "Please, forgive me; its just that I'm so attracted to you, this schoolboy prank was all I could think of." His voice had sounded almost normal for a moment, but now it dropped back to an eager whisper. "You know, if you just allow yourself to feel the moment..." The look of hope on his face grew. "Please? Let me?"

A puzzled expression passed over the vet's face as she backed away from the crowding man, not taking her eyes from him. Shaking her head slightly, she said, more to herself, "Something's wrong here. This just doesn't make sense."

Riker made a grab for her, and she dodged the move, stepping backwards. Continuing to shake her head slowly she said, "I don't believe this!" She stopped backing away, and with a look of firm resolve, before Riker could reach out to her again, she raised her hand, pushing the palm towards his face and said in a commanding tone, "No! Get back! No!"

Riker's eyes widened and he suddenly halted. He backed off a couple of stumbling steps, turned his body away, but kept his eyes, troubled and confused, on the imposing woman. Now, breathing heavily through his nose, he swayed towards her slightly, but she raised her hand again, bringing him up short.

"Commander Riker, you back off! Now! There's definitely something wrong here. Right now, I don't know whether to bring you up on charges or have you medically investigated. Maybe you have something better to do than to wear that hat and strutting around in your skimpies, and maybe you don't; maybe you're responsible for your actions and maybe you're not. Whatever it is, you're definitely out of line with me and I'm leaving!" With that, Commander T'Shing backed out of the room, not removing her eyes from Riker until the door to his quarters swished shut.

TBC to Chapter 9

Questions? Comments? I live for feedback!


	9. Passions

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: D'Jang and Guinan discuss passions while a wedding reception is planned.

Chapter 9

Shortly after leaving Riker, in a very quiet Ten Forward, D'Jang was sitting at the bar, waiting for her ginseng tea.

Guinan, picking up on both the order and her new friend's distraction, put a hand on the bar. "Tell me?" Then, she serenely stood by, waiting.

After D'Jang explained, Guinan asked, "What do you mean when you say you felt something was wrong? I had the impression you've heard of Riker's conquests. There's nothing unusual there."

"Well, I hadn't heard that he was a deceitful lout. I thought he'd be straightforward, at least, if not downright romantic. But, that wasn't what was wrong; I sensed his emotions! I sensed the animal passion!"

"The last time I heard, sexual lust is referred to as animal passion, especially in the human male."

D'Jang shook her head. "Animal passion, Guinan, not human lust. Besides, I don't sense people, only animals. Remember? I mean, I've been around sexually aroused men, of course, but I've never sensed their inner feelings, except in the way a woman usually senses men's passions." She shrugged her shoulders. "In any case, research on comparative feelings between animals and humanoids, conclusively shows there's a difference between the two." She shook her head slowly, as she ruminated.

"Guinan, I can't speak for the exact nature of human lust in general, but I know how animals work. Animals can easily get sexually stimulated, not only by their own kind, but by anything they feel comfortable with, a person, a blanket, anything. I've seen peacocks spread their tails for tree stumps!"

She took a gulp of her tea and looked straight at Guinan. "When an animal feels emotion, it's all-or-nothing, and Riker was full, go-for-broke on. In spite of that, when sexually aroused, an animal takes no for an answer from the female. Nowhere, on any planet, is there such a thing as rape in the animal world. The male may not let go once a female has submitted, but never, never, does an animal initially force himself sexually on the object of his passion. With intelligent beings, it's different. Ever had a man force himself on you?"

Nodding gravely, she smiled slightly with no humor, "It's happened. None of them liked what came of it."

D'Jang shook her head ruefully. "I've never been mindlessly, violently raped, but I have been coerced a few times."

"I've heard that called velvet-rape, in some places, and Cirquesian-Pelt-rape in others." Guinan's face took on a peculiar and unfamiliarly hard look. "But its still rape." Her naturally dark face grew even darker, much as it did when she remembered what the Borg had done to her people.

"Yeah," agreed D'Jang, "it's easier to take than mean rape, but not much fun. The thing is, most usually, the man is so involved in his own sexual drives, he hasn't even heard the refusal."

Guinan nodded again.

D'Jang brought herself out of the past and into the present. "But you know what? With Riker, I felt perfectly safe, fully in control. I was absolutely certain I was sensing an animal, not a man. Then, when I backed off and told him no, he stopped, cold. He still wanted me but my refusal was enough. I sensed it! The same as I'd sense from an animal!" She took another swig from her cup. "Which does not make sense."

Guinan responded in her familiarly comfortable manner. "Well, I can understand your confusion. It's like, what you were seeing on one hand, and what you understood to be true, on the other hand, didn't co-ordinate. There's quite a few incongruities going on this trip." The doors to the lounge audibly whispered open and the peace and quiet of the room was shattered by a cluster of excited young people. Seeing she had customers Guinan laid her hand on D'Jang's arm and said, "Excuse me, please."

Chattering, touching, and weaving among each other, the group orbited around a pair of couples in the center. All but two of the ten or so people were dressed in the gold and black uniforms of Engineering Section. In high spirits, laughing at remarks, they began pointing to one of the areas of the large room. While most of them stayed at the far end of the room, looking speculatively at a grouping of tables, one young woman separated herself from the crowd, and started chattering as she approached. Guinan answered her inquiries quietly, questioned, reassured, nodded, and reassured again. The young enlisted then returned to the group and Guinan returned to the end of the bar.

"You okay with the tea? I'm going to have to get busy. There's going to be a double wedding in a while and they're having the reception here. They just came in to make sure it's still okay. They keep saying to keep it simple, but you know what, I'm still not sure of what I'm going to do." She cocked an eyebrow at D'Jang. "You don't suppose beer and pretzels would suffice?"

D'Jang, not too terribly interested, but recognizing a reply was needed, shook her head.

Guinan seemed to take the small gesture seriously. "I thought not. Excuse me again, I have to go tell them what I'm going to do for them, making it up as I go along. I just hope I can be as creative as I'm going to sound.

"Should I finish up and leave?"

Guinan put her hand on D'Jang's arm again. "You stay here and take as long as you like. They're not reserving Ten Forward for exclusive use. Their party will be over there, in the far corner, and everyone else will come and go, as they like. It won't happen for a couple of hours anyway." The vet nodded and Guinan strolled off to invent a party.

D'Jang quietly contemplated her experience with Riker, her conversation and reassurance from Guinan, and decided to put the matter on a back burner for a while. She'd heard a lot about Riker, and wondered if hers was just another tale to add to the legend of the handsome, charming Enterprise Commander, or whether she'd stumbled on the reason for the legends. She knew that Riker was from Earth and that Earth had some very old stories of people who became animals and animals that became people. She knew that many of these tales related to women being attracted to these man-beasts and, having met many earth-women, she could see why. Did he have these fits of obsessive passion often? How often had he called women into his quarters? How many had fallen under the spell of his raw animal desire?

D'Jang's rambling thoughts were dispelled by the sound of activity behind her. Finishing her tea, she turned, trying to get a good look at ones who were to be married, but they were so surrounded by the celebrants, they were mostly obscured from sight. Just as she was about to give up, silently wishing them happiness, the group parted. The youthful grooms' their faces were awash with blushes of pride and happiness. The two brides, probably sisters, were eye catching to say the least, and obviously not Starfleet. Their skin, a startling rainbow of color, looked reptilian both in hue and pattern. The skin texture, however, was not of the dry, scaly sort associated with reptiles, but looked like humanoid flesh. Their hair was a spiky, sparse brush of pale, finely textured bristles, through which their scalps showed. It looked like it might continue down the spinal column the way the boat necks of their dresses were pulled back. They wore loose fitting, short gowns that did nothing to hide their very human-like, very curvaceous figures. They had absolutely vacuous looks on their beautiful faces, their features lax, their eyes wide, and their cupid's bow mouths slightly open. '_I bet,_' she thought, '_they're from some impoverished culture on some backwards little planet. No doubt, they're sweet but dumb, surely under educated, even for their own planet, and can't speak a word of Galactic. Bet they worked in a bar or in a pleasure house and were wooed and won by these two strapping youths_.' Something tugged at her mind. '_And I should stop making up stories before I know the facts. It's a waste of time_.' Her father's words, always popping up to haunt her.

As a child, she'd been frustrated by her inability to read people as she read animals. Being a high-order genius, most knowledge came easily, and not knowing anything about people was frustrating to her. She didn't like surprises, didn't like to think she didn't know things, and to compensate for this lack, she used to make up stories about people she met. At first, it had been an innocent sort of play, but as she got older, and found most other knowledge easily accessible, she became convinced that her made up stories were right, that she had 'sensed' their history.

D'Jang's mother, always in awe of her child's intelligence, thought there might be something to her daughter's determination to 'know,' that she may have retained something of her ancestral Vulcan abilities. Her father, on the other hand, saw 'knowing' as a fault, looked at her pastime as something that might slip over into her developing abilities as an animal reader. "Making diagnosis is not a matter of making a lucky guess, not making up a story, and seeing if you're right. Making a diagnosis, is making observations, gathering proof, coming to a conclusion, and then confirming it with your eyes, your touch, and your mind." Then he'd call her by his pet name for her, "Jing-jang, using your mind that way is the same sort of waste of time and energy as when you decided you wanted to be a bird. Remember all that time you spent flapping your arms in an effort to fly? Meanwhile, you could have learned how to build a flying machine and really flown! Use the gifts you have, don't just flap your arms."

D'Jang sighed. Her thoughts were tugged at again, but this time not by her memories. She turned back to where the group had closed around the couples, wondering if these people would really be happy. She sighed and muttered to herself, "Enough of this you old mother hen. Whatever problems they'll have won't be your concern and you're probably making up stories anyway." She shook off the feeling of something that was just out of reach plucking at her edges and left the lounge.

TBC to Chapter 10

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	10. Peculiar Behavior

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Riker sports new headgear.

Chapter 10

"Mr. Worf, did Commander Riker say he was on his way?" Picard's congenial tone had a recognizable edge.

"Yes sir." The Klingon was gazing at the view screen at the front of the bridge where Picard was shown larger than life.

He could see Picard, surrounded by a group of Kronatina, turn and looked at his grey furred hosts, smiling weakly as he said, "It's a bit uncharacteristic of the Commander to be tardy, but perhaps he's just being careful of his new, uh, companion. He'll arrive momentarily, I have no doubt." Returning his look to the viewer he smiled tightly at the Klingon who was standing in front of the command chairs, "At least, not yet."

Data spoke up moving his hand to the console in front of him, "I shall inquire as to his estimated time of arrival, Captain." The swish of the turbolift doors heralded the arrival of Commander Riker before the android could finish his intent.

Captain Picard looked relieved, but it was short lived.

The headdress, sitting atop Riker's head, looked resplendent and out of place. Riker's usually perfectly groomed beard appeared unkempt and his always spotless uniform looked wrinkled and soiled, as if it had been worn the day before and been slept in. The look in his eyes was even more out of place. Entering the bridge and striding down the ramp, he did little more than glance at the view screen, focusing his entire attention on Lieutenant Worf.

Within seconds, much to the Klingon's confusion, Worf was being confronted by Riker who was standing less than six inches away from him, face to face. Who better than Riker would know that to stand closer than battle sword reach to a Klingon, especially when on the bridge of a vessel, is to risk a deathblow? Worf knew that Riker's training for his tour aboard the Klingon ship, Pakh, had made that more than clear. Why would his commanding officer, his shipmate, his friend, challenge him? And there was no doubt that this man, a head shorter and a quarter of his body weight lighter, was challenging him for his right to be standing where he was, for his right to hold rank in Starfleet, and possibly his right to be alive. While Commander Riker wordlessly stood his ground, the Klingon, not daring to look away, stared back at the face that he hardly recognized. No sound, aside from the ever-present impersonal background noise of the Enterprise, was heard.

Suddenly, breaking the spell, the Klingon turned, walked up the far ramp, and took his post at the Security Station on the upper bridge. His posture, his face, had not changed.

As if nothing had happened, Riker turned to face the view screen. "Captain Picard," he said calmly. The tendrils swept gracefully across his shoulders as he pivoted.

Picard had watched this episode from the planet below in stunned silence. Recovering only some of his composure, he asked, "Number One, are you all right?"

Riker seemed to pull himself up a bit taller and tugged at his wrinkled blouse. "I am now, yes sir."

Unconvinced, Picard nodded once and suddenly seemed to realize where he was and what he was doing. "Well, good. I see you have the, uh, have made the acquaintance of the Kronatt?"

Riker's hand rose upwards, partly as if to caress the feathers, partly as a gesture of acknowledgement. "Yes, I have."

The faces of the Kronatina surrounding Picard crowded closer to the screen. A's'kahn'a, asked, "You are comfortable with the acquaintance?"

Riker paused, staring at the screen. His eyes snapped and he answered, "Comfortable? Well, I think I can say the experience is unusual, for both of us."

Picard said, "It's not interfering with your duties, I trust?"

Riker turned and made a slight bow to the captain. "No, Sir, not at all. I think I can handle everything, and everyone, just fine." his eyes dropped and switched from side to side as if he could catch sight of any of the ones he intended to handle.

The answer was obviously not what Picard had expected, so he tried again. "Well, I'm relieved to hear that. If Commander Riker should come to feel that he can't perform his duties properly, I hope that you," he turned towards the Kronatina, "will understand that he must remove the guest."

A's'kahn'a, who had been studiously examining something on the floor, said, "I hope S's'haht'a, who is my friend, will cause no inconvenience to your Commander Riker."

Riker spoke up, "I assure you, Captain Picard, my earlier impression of our guest has been changed. Our guest," he raised his hand again briefly, "is causing me no inconvenience. However, Sir, and Oh, A's'kahn'a, I would like to make a suggestion. I think more of my companions here on board should make the acquaintance of our guest and I suggest that Dr. Crusher be chosen."

If Riker had suggested that Dr. Crusher should be a candidate for having a baby fathered by a Ferengi, Picard could not have been more surprised. Face frozen in a diplomatic smile, his eyes dropped briefly, in a flurry of thought. Then, he looked up to A's'kahn'a. "Our guest is your friend. Perhaps you have a thought about this?"

"We would be most honored to make acquaintances with any who would be willing. We were honored that one so highly esteemed as Riker was first, but any associate of yours would be most acceptable."

The short speech, accompanied by the usual flurry of body movement, had given Picard time to recompose his watchful calm. "Thank you, oh A's'kahn'a. Commander Riker, your consideration is appreciated. If Dr. Crusher has reason to object, I suggest you choose another officer for the honor. Is that clear?"

Riker's eyes glinted. "Sir, I'll enjoy making the offer to Dr. Crusher."

Again, Picard looked in askance at his first officer, but couldn't think how to voice his doubts. Movement to one side caught his attention. "Ah, it seems it is time for one of their recreational breaks. We are all content then, with the acquaintance?"

A's'kahn'a no longer seemed interested, and the other Kronatina had broken out of the group and were wandering off.

"Well, then, Number One, I'll contact you later. Oh, one thing more, I suggest you change your uniform; you seem to have a bit of soil on that one. Picard out."

The screen changed to the ship's view the planet below. Riker stood at ease for some seconds, gazing at the scene, then, straightening up, he turned and began looking around the bridge, almost as if he were looking for something. His eyes stopped at each station, taking in the operators as well as the displays. At each, he lowered his brows and squinted slightly. Seeing no reaction as he glowered, his glare moved to the next area, his face relaxing a little until, at the station, he did the same again. When his gaze fell on Lieutenant Worf, his eyebrows darkly knotted together, and his head lowered.

Worf glanced up, caught the glare, and had to stop his body from tensing. The Klingon exhaled heavily, dropping his chin, and continued his surveillance of the console in front of him.

Satisfaction gleamed in Riker's face at Worf's reaction. Then, his eyes took up the excursion of the bridge once again, taking in the whole area until his attention was taken up by the ship's Power Control station. He stepped over to stand slightly behind and to one side of Ensign Ro, who was not so involved in the light duties of maintaining the easy orbit, that she couldn't help but be aware of the commanding officer's proximity. She tried not to straighten up but she did, ever so slightly, and tried not to act busier than the duty required, but she could not seem to stop her hands from making minor, unnecessary adjustments.

"Ensign, the Kron system is a double star, the mate of which is called Zrrakita. How long would it take to get there at, oh, say, warp six?"

The question caught the ensign off guard at first. Not because it was a basically simple question that one might ask a child, not a Starfleet ensign, but because it sounded like a genuine quest for information. Her training at the Starfleet Academy clicked in automatically and, since a junior officer doesn't question a senior officer in any non-threatening situation, she answered, "Forty six hours and nineteen minutes, Commander."

Data, at the Operations station, almost interrupted, but caught himself before he did. He had wanted to add the number of seconds to Ensign Ro's answer, but he realized in time that the additional information was not essential to this peculiar moment.

"And," continued Riker, "how long would it take at warp eight?"

Ro answered without hesitation, "Ten hours and three minutes, Commander."

"Warp nine point five?" He was oblivious to the crewmember's reactions, who were paying much more attention to the intercourse between the two than to their stations.

"Four minutes and seven seconds, Commander."

After a short pause, Commander Riker said, "Ensign, lay in a course for Zrrakita IV, warp nine point five, and engage now."

All of Ensign Ro's training fled from her and suddenly she was the headstrong Bajoran woman who had nearly lost her commission some time before. "What?" Her face contorted in frustrated anger, she turned, about to rise from her seat.

The rest of the bridge crew were now paying no attention whatever to their stations. If it were not for the ship's computer, which was always at the helm, the Enterprise could very well have gone bouncing along the planet's atmosphere like a stone skipping across the surface of a pond. As one, the entire mass of the crew focused onto their curiously acting Commander.

Worf, also caught up in the moment, voiced a booming, "No!"

This time Data didn't hesitate to interject calmly, "Sir, that is against regulations. We have not been ordered to that planet, nor is there any pressing business to attend to in that area."

Worf continued his objection, "We cannot leave Captain Picard without protection!"

Data continued, "Which, I believe, should even take precedence over regulations. With the Romulan ship in close proximity, we should take it for granted that they might bring harm to Captain Picard, if given the opportunity to do so."

Looking slightly bewildered, wide-eyed, Riker glanced around, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times. Finally, he muttered, "Belay the order, Ensign. Continue as you were." He walked towards the command chair, turned with a swirl of feathers and glared moodily at the view of the planet on the screen.

As the electric mood of the bridge died down, one by one, hesitantly, the members of the bridge crew turned to their duties, but Data remained in his half-turned position. The android's face showed he was doing an internal review of the events of the past moments. A slight head movement revealed a change of internal connections and then Data looked up and said, "Commander? May I speak with you privately in the Captain's Ready Room?"

Riker looked blankly at Data for a second, and blinked before saying, "Of course, Data."

Once the door to the Ready Room had closed, Data said, "Commander, I wish to reiterate Captain Picard's inquiry of a few moments ago, is there something wrong?"

Staring a bit foggily at Data, Commander Riker said, "Why do you ask?"

Data spewed out the information. "First, because when Captain Picard asked, I am not so sure you answered truthfully. Second, I notice your appearance is not up to your usual standards of tidiness, giving me cause to wonder. I have observed, in the past, that when humans are physically ill, or they are going through an emotional turmoil, their personal appearance deteriorates. Third, you seem to be taking some sort of offense at Worf, for no particular reason, which is uncharacteristic of your behavior on the bridge. Fourth, because you ordered the Enterprise to be taken out of orbit which is against…"

"I think I get the idea, Data."

Data paused expectantly. When no further answer was forthcoming, he spoke again. "Sir?"

Will had been looking around the small room as if he had never been in Captain Picard's off-bridge sanctum. He stared openly at the chunk of fossilized coral, at the stylized picture of the Enterprise on the wall, at the bits of archeological oddments here and there, but Data's vocal prod brought his attention back to the matter at hand; he seemed a little bewildered, a little at a loss for words. He finally found his voice. "Well, perhaps I am a little distracted by this hat. I have this general feeling of frustration, you know?"

Data answered, "No sir, I do not think I can know, but I will take your word for it. If you are feeling badly, perhaps you should see Dr. Crusher."

At first Riker's face clouded over at the mention of being ill but quickly changed to a sly smile. "Data, I think you may have something there. I'm going to return to my quarters. You have the bridge." He started for the door.

"Does that mean, Commander," said Data, "That Worf is to be relieved of Picard's orders to take command of the bridge in your absence?"

Riker seemed to consider. "Mmm, no, that was a slip of the tongue. I meant you in the general sense of the word, meaning that I wouldn't be on the bridge. I mean that Mr. Worf has the bridge."

"Yes sir," answered Data brightly and followed Riker out.

As Data took his seat at the ops station, Riker paused just outside the Ready Room, and touched his communications insignia. "Dr. Crusher?"

"Yes, commander?" answered the doctor.

"Are you busy right now?"

"Yes I am. Can it wait?"

"I'd like you to meet me in my quarters. I have something I'd like to propose to you."

"Will an hour from now be all right?"

"An hour will be fine. Riker out." He smiled and murmured to himself, to Data's mystification, "Anticipation whets the appetite."

Riker took a strange path leaving the bridge; instead of turning right and walking up ramp to the turbolift, he walked left, in front of the command chairs and then up the opposite ramp, and passed behind Worf at the communications station. Though he didn't hurry, he noticeably slowed his pace at the top of the rise and absolutely dawdled behind the Klingon. Though Riker didn't look directly at the Lieutenant Commander's broad back, it was obvious that he was keeping careful watch in his side vision as his measured steps carried him past.

The Klingon, like everyone else on the bridge, was completely aware of this strange behavior. After the order to leave orbit however, Worf had no longer tried to fathom this man's behavior. He was secure in his sense of his personal safety and had observed another senior officer's consciousness of Riker's odd actions, so enough was enough. Only someone entirely acquainted with Klingon body language would have noticed he stood straighter and harder than normal as Riker casually oozed his way across the upper bridge. The automatic doors to the turbolift swished open at his approach. Just as he stepped in, Commander Riker tossed the statement over his shoulder, "You have the bridge, Mr. Worf." Somehow, he'd made it sound more like an insult than a transfer of command. The doors swished shut.

TBC to Chapter 11

Questions? Comments? I want feedback! Gi'me, gi'me!!


	11. Translation and Murder

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Problems in translation are discussed. Riker tours the Enterprise and D'Jang has discovered murder.

Chapter 11

"What progress have you had in the last two hours?" Picard inquired of Geordi and Lieutenant Bundawba

His deep black skin glistening slightly at the excitement of talking over important stuff with the captain, Lt. Bundawba said, "First, there's nothing technically wrong with the translator, Captain. Commander LaForge has double checked my diagnostics and reaffirmed the findings. I'm still checking for a bug in the software but I haven't found anything yet. If there is a bug, it's incredibly specific.

"Explain," Picard's voice interjected.

At this moment, Riker, garbed in the spectacular chapeau, appeared in the doorway of the room in which Bundawba and LaForge stood, but didn't enter. He merely stopped and looked about as if sightseeing. Though they couldn't help but notice him, neither LaForge nor Bundawba quite knew what to make of the sight so they said nothing, but stared in amazement.

Not knowing the reason for the pause, Picard's voice barked a reiteration, "Explain!"

Lieutenant Bundawba jumped. "Oh! Uh, yes sir. I think the bug is very specific because of the Kronatina's lack of complaint about understanding us. If they actually do understand what's being said, then the fault of the translator lies only on our side. The programming might be giving them the correct words and garbling the meaning to us."

"Is that possible?"

"Oh, yes, Sir. That's what I meant about the bug being specific. Of course, it could be that they don't understand us and don't realize it. That is, they may understand the words, but maybe not the meaning. Have you seen any hesitation in their answers?"

"Nothing I'd interpret as such, no."

"I didn't think so since we'd have recorded incidences of action-word-incongruence, by now, but I'm still keeping it in mind. I'm hoping that we've simply misunderstood the meaning of a few words, like 'he' or 'him'. Perhaps we even mistranslated their concept of who the Kronatina are in relation to their possessions. I mean, our translation of what we'd call their hat comes out sounding to us as if it's one of them, as if it can go visiting and make a good impression."

Up to now looking about the room aimlessly, at the mention of the Kronatina, Riker concentrated his gaze on the two engineers. The two were so involved in addressing Picard that they'd quite forgotten the commander's presence, but if they had noticed him, they would have seen a bit of a smile playing around his otherwise blank features.

Picard continued, "Yes, discussion of the hat seems to be the crux of the problem. What I want to know is, is this an isolated case, this lack of understanding the relationship with their headdress, or are we misunderstanding something else."

"As you suggested, I've taken the problem to the linguistics for re-examination. They've got recordings of every word spoken in the presence of the translator. They are going to run it all through the Gonzler/Sit-huhu Translation Test, which should take about half an hour. Depending on any inconsistencies, I can see if it's a bug or if perhaps it fits a second theory I've got.

"Which is?"

"That there's something about the Kronatina that we just don't know. That there's some aspect to their culture, life process or whatever, of which we have no concept."

"They were studied pretty thoroughly in the first contact phase, Lieutenant Bundawba."

"Which is why I think my first premise is more likely. Linguistics will have an answer for us shortly."

"Good. Part of being a diplomat means having to make sense of many unknowns. Let's not make the job any more difficult than it is. It sounds like you are close to a solution here. Keep up the good work. Picard out."

If the two men had not been so concentrated on solving the problem at hand, they would have noticed that Riker left them a few seconds before Picard had signaled out.

&&&&

As Dr. Crusher entered the Menagerie, D'Jang greeted her. "Not R&R time already?"

"No, I was passing by. You going to be ready for a break in an hour or so?"

D'Jang confirmed she was and asked where Beverly was off to. Beverly said that after running a few other errands, she was on her way to Commander Riker's quarters, that he'd called her. D'Jang blanched and asked if this was Bev's first time or if she went to Riker's quarters often.

Inquiring what D'Jang's meant, the chief medical officer shook her head in disbelief. "That's not at all like Will. I mean, he's not shy, but neither has he ever been that crude. Surely, you must have misinterpreted his actions!"

"Guinan said about the same thing. So this is a new act for him?"

"I just can't believe he behaved like that." The doctor paused and looked chastened. "No, I don't mean that." She reached out to touch D'Jang's hand. "He did something that deeply disturbed you." Her lips tightened and her blue-green eyes narrowed in determination. "I'll talk with him and see just what this is all about." Crusher turned and was about to leave.

D'Jang called out, "Before you go, Beverly, I think you'd better be apprised of a situation I think I have here."

"What's that?"

"Someone on board this ship is mutilating and killing small animals!"

"What?"

"I don't know who or why, yet. The worst of it is, the animals are owned by children. It started before I came on board. Remember my being called out on emergency when the Kronatina first came aboard? Someone had killed a kid's little cuddlelover. You know, one of those harmless creatures from my planet, Dolanzia? A gentle thing and not much smaller than the little kid that brought it in. The hide had nearly been ripped off. Then, an hour after that, another kid showed up with his pet bunny. It wasn't dead, but it had severe lacerations on the central dorsal line, the same as the cuddlelover. Both kids had taken them for an outing in the Arboretum. Apparently, a lot of the kids who own these kinds of pets take them there.

"Yes," said Beverly, "I know. Keiko once explained that limited access by these animals does the Garden Room no harm, a little bit of good, in fact. I know it does their owners a huge amount of good in terms of exercise and fun. But someone attacked the animals?"

"Yes," confirmed the vet. "The little boy said he'd lost track of the rabbit for a few minutes when he heard an awful sound, like a squeal. He ran towards the sound and saw his rabbit on the ground. He said a nice lady had gotten there first and was about to pick it up, but that she ran off when he yelled about his bunny being hurt. His mother came on the run, and she said she saw no one. Apparently, this nice lady ran off too fast. I wish the little kid could have described her because, so far, she's the only witness I've heard of. No one else has seen whoever it is that's doing this."

Beverly flinched. "Are you sure some other animal isn't loose in there?"

"Positive. Every animal on board has been accounted for, carnivore or no. Also, I went over every inch of the place and sensed nothing higher than insect level."

"What about the lady that the child saw? Did he say anything at all about her?"

"Well, the kid is only about five years old. You know how they are at that age, they can tell a man from a woman, and they're either scary or nice. More than that—" She shrugged. "Anyway," the veterinarian looked tired, discouraged, "no description, so no way to find her. Five other kids in the past month have complained of animals missing. One parent has told me that, a week before I came on board, her little girl found only bloody parts of the hide of her baby bunny."

Beverly nodded, "Poor thing. But, D'Jang, why tell me? Shouldn't you inform Security about this?"

"I have and so did the kids' families. The missing animals aren't considered a security matter. As for that matter well, really, how much importance is given to three Earth rabbits, three Brinloidian mockerruggers, and a couple of Dolanzian cuddlelovers, all belonging to kids under the age of nine? Even if they had all been dismembered and nailed to a bulkhead, I don't think Security would get overly excited, right? It might be a matter for Deanna, though."

Beverly nodded in agreement.

"The thing is, these animals are cute, but they don't generally give up life without a struggle especially when someone is brazenly trying to divest them of their skin before killing them. Except for the cuddlelovers who have only teeth, the rest are equipped with claws, too, which I'm sure they'd use in defense of their lives. I'm thinking some must have done the attacker some damage, which is why I told you about it. Now you can be on the lookout for anyone that comes in with any sort of abrasions."

Beverly nodded again. "I'll do that. I'll also examine the medical records to see if any have come in the last couple of weeks. I haven't seen anyone with scratches on the hands and arms, so far, but that doesn't mean one of the other medical crew hasn't seen it."

Beverly turned again to go. "I have to get going. I'll see what I can find out about Will's behavior, too. When we can get together in Ten Forward, I'll tell you what I know."

Beverly left the Menagerie and the vet returned to her patients.

TBC to Chapter 12

Questions? Comments? Tell me what you think of this, please.


	12. The Publican and the Party Crasher

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Guinan plays bartender and Riker crashes a wedding party.

Chapter 12

Guinan never walked, she glided. Many an ensign had cracked jokes about the possibility of the lounge host having wheelies in her boots. As always, she moved smoothly as ever up to the young man seated at the bar who was gazing gloomily at his drink. Ten Forward, often aglow with a hundred people, was quiet at this time and seemed dark. The lighting hadn't changed but the atmosphere often did. The illumination from the internally lit bar gleamed upwards to the two faces on either side. "I don't think I've seen you in here before." This ploy could only work with those people who didn't know Guinan, didn't know that she remembered everyone she'd ever seen, anywhere.

"Oh, I've been in here before." The youth sighed and continued to stare morosely into his glass.

"Oh? Funny. I'd thought I'd have remembered. I've seen the blue woman on the crew, but not you."

The young man looked up and looked at Guinan with a patently bored expression. He said, "I was the blue woman." Then he paused and waited for the reaction. Guinan didn't disappoint him.

"But you're—I mean, she wasn't—"

The bored expression remained while he said, "I'm a Tarlusion. I'm from Tarlus II." He sounded as if he was coaxing an answer from a bright ten year old.

Guinan could only act dumb for just so long. "Oohh! Sure, I get it." She smiled in congenial understanding, but the yeoman in front of her didn't see it. He'd gone back to staring at his dwindling drink.

"You lose something?"

Not lifting his head, he answered, "No. Why?"

"Well, the way you're staring into that glass I'd thought you'd dropped something in there." One of the oldest lines in the publican's repertoire didn't work. The young man continued his gaze in silence, so Guinan switched to the direct approach. "Excuse me for being so rude as to interrupt your meditation, but there are only two people in here, you and me. I'm a very social person and I like conversation. Now the most common conversation between a bar host and a customer is to talk about what's bothering them. At the moment, I don't have anything bothering me. How about you?"

Anyone looking into Guinan's calm face when it was in the 'listening mode', could not resist fulfilling its purpose. The young man assembled his thoughts. "I think I've lost one of the best friends I ever had."

"How so?"

"Well, I never thought twice about my changing. I mean, at home, we just go through it, you know?"

"Yes, so?"

He ducked his head and looked away. "Well, here, everyone's made a big deal out of it. You non-changers, you treat women differently from men."

"Come again?"

He looked desperately at Guinan and words came tumbling out. "Everyone treats me so differently since the change. It's the first I've gone through since joining Starfleet. I'd only gone through two other changes on Tarlus II, where it's normal."

Guinan kept her voice calm. "How are you being treated differently?"

"As a woman I got smiled at a lot, and everyone talked to me in quiet tones. Also, I had to speak up to get my point across. Now, as a man I notice there are fewer smiles and people are much more serious around me. People talk louder, even people I've worked with for several months. Suddenly I've been given more credence, as if I somehow got smarter. But worse, before, men flirted with me and women were friendly but now everyone is acting, well, so neutral you'd think I was a machine. You know? Same name, same height, same memories, same everything, just that now, they know I change gender!" Zidadit ran out of steam.

Guinan waited a couple of beats to be sure he was finished. "And on Tarlus II you treat everyone the same?"

He made a face. "Well, pretty much. I mean, well, pretty much."

Guinan shook her head gently, which made her head covering wobble slightly. She said, "So, what has this got to do with the friend you lost?"

The bored look returned to Zidadit's face but colored slightly brown with impatience this time. "He met me when I was a woman. Now, I'm not."

It was Guinan's turn to look patently bored. "So?"

Guinan and Zidadit stared at each other a moment. "So, you non-changers allow your perceptions of gender to shade your relationships. I think my friend would be very upset to find that his 'girl' friend is now a man. The people I work with seem to be."

Guinan shook her head. "If you know this guy so well, I'm surprised you were friends with him at all. And why didn't you tell him in the first place that you're, shall we say, versatile."

"I didn't tell him because I assumed he knew. I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious that I'm a Tarlusion. It wasn't until after I started changing and the crew I work with made a few comments that I realized they didn't know Tarlusion from Andorian, that they didn't know I change gender every few years. You know, sometimes I think the crew thinks I had a sex-change operation or something!"

"Are you afraid your friend will think the same thing?"

Zidadit looked down at his drink again. "The way everyone is so hung up on gender, I'm afraid it'll clean blow his mind to find I'm a man, now. If he'd maybe seen me change little by little, but I'd been working so much, I didn't have a chance to see him. Now, I'm afraid to. And I miss him, too. He was a good friend." He concluded by looking up into Guinan's cherubic face.

The two continued to stare at each other. Guinan was obviously trying not to lose patience. "I think you should go find your friend and say 'Hi,' to him."

"But what if—"

"Just do it."

Suddenly the quiet of Ten Forward was snapped with the grand entrance of the two pairs of newlyweds and their entourage, all in high spirits. "Now excuse me, I have a wedding reception to tend to." Guinan turned away and glided towards the boisterous group.

The men in the party were whooping loudly and making raucous comments about delaying the groom's connubial bliss as long as possible, slapping them on the back, and winking broadly at everyone. The women were laughing and jibing at the two silent brides, offering to show the girls how to get the upper hand first.

Guinan directed the group to their tables decorated appropriately for the occasion. Everyone oooh-ed and aahh-ed at the simple but ingeniously effective preparations crafted by Guinan's guiding hand. There were even two small cakes, each topped with representations of the couples, the miniature men clad in the gold and black of Engineering, the tiny female partners depicted in rainbow colors, dressed in short white gowns. There were two more tables spread with finger foods, flanked with flower arrangements echoing the vibrant colors of the brides. Large bowls of synthaholic potables were available, surrounded by glasses large enough to satisfy any party thirsts.

Quietly observing that the brides were indeed dressed in abbreviated gowns, the same as the dolls, Guinan was pleased she'd been right. She'd guessed the brides' friends had designed their attire and knew this work section's tastes fairly well. However, she now saw she could have made the grooms' figures bowlegged and the brides magenta colored and dressed in Klingon battle wear and it wouldn't have really mattered. It looked like most of the members of the party were there to simply eat and drink hearty and the brides and grooms were too involved in themselves to notice particulars.

Assured that the party would no doubt continue without her supervision, Guinan turned to see what else could use her attention in her domain and was startled to see Riker standing just inside the doors. On later recall she wasn't sure just whether it was his stance and the look on his face, or if it was just his appearance in that outlandish headdress that had surprised her. Maybe it was the fact that he looked like he'd slept in his uniform and hadn't groomed his beard. Unkempt was just not a word she ever would have associated with the only officer she'd ever seen who could look positively debonair in regulation Starfleet uniform. And the hat! She had heard the scuttlebutt about the gift from the Kronatina, but she hadn't thought that Riker would be sporting it around the ship.

In spite of their friendship, Guinan didn't even consider greeting him. Something about the look on his face or the way he stood told her to keep her distance. Since he had taken no apparent notice of her, Guinan faded back into a shadow, and disappeared for all intents and purposes. Something told her she should keep an eye on her strangely appearing friend.

She saw Riker, at first, simply looked around Ten Forward, almost as if he'd never seen it before. He took notice of the man still sitting at the bar, the bar itself, then the tables and chairs, the huge view ports showing the vast space beyond, and finally the noisy group. His observation of the party, a general one at first, seemed to sharpen and focus abruptly on the two pairs of newlyweds.

According to Guinan's later recall, "Now, ordinarily, when Riker sees a party going on, he just naturally gets into a good mood. He puts on a big smile and gets jolly, even if he only means to stop by, say hello, and then go on his way. This time, well, I couldn't name his mood but it sure wasn't fit for parties."

Guinan watched Riker's face work from intent, to puzzled, to some sort of determination. His body took on a wary stance, his arms spread out slightly from his sides, and his legs spread for balance as he advanced towards the celebrating group.

Everyone welcomed him, making comments on his party hat, apparently taking little notice of his silence, of his intense glare at the two brides, or of his decided lack of party mood. The two brides, however, took very alarmed notice. They shrank under his scrutiny, turning for protection towards their proud husbands. One of the girls seemed determined to burrow into her partner's armpit, shrinking down, huddling against his side. The other one started to disappear behind her mate, using his body to shield her from Riker's gaze. Though everyone else was laughing and making jokes about how it was too late for Riker to lay claims and how the brides were now safe from his clutches, he gave no heed or answer to anyone's greetings or ribald comments. He merely continued to stare, first at one bride and then the other, advancing to within a foot or so between the two.

Although the others, who were drinking and eating more than paying attention, weren't conscious of anything dramatic in Riker's mien, the two grooms did get the nervous giggles. Between trying to reassure their fearful brides that there was nothing to be afraid of and trying to mumble greetings to their strangely behaving commanding officer, honored by his august presence, they had more than they could handle. Groping at the girls who seemed to be determined to embarrass them, and doing a good job of it, they simultaneously broke into the blushing sweats.

Riker ignored the men, continuing to stare first at one and then the other of the multicolored shrinking violets, his jaw thrust forward, not so much in belligerence, but more like a sort of distrusting curiosity. He also lightly huffed and snuffed several times in the girls' direction, causing one girl to sink entirely to the floor under the scrutiny. She wound up pitifully peering at the commander from between her husband's legs. Finally, seeming to come to a conclusion, Riker backed off a step, turned, and abruptly left the lounge, eyed by several curious observers, Guinan included.

Guinan almost went over to the party, to reassure them and try to get them back into the party mood, but there was no need. Theirs was not to reason the behavior of senior officers but rather to party-hearty, so Guinan left well enough alone. Other customers were coming in, and needing service of their own.

TBC to Chapter 13

Questions? Comments? Tell me what you think, please.


	13. The Discovery

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Riker falls ill and a new discovery is made about the hat.

Chapter 13

Entering Riker's quarters, Dr. Crusher wasn't sure which was more alarming, the darkness, or the light odor that assailed her nostrils. The gloom was relieved only by the few safety lights that were forever on throughout the ship. Glowing out of hidden recesses, the LED's gave the room a dim twilight. It seemed that the air circulation for the room had been turned so low as to leave the air almost still, so there was an unabashedly male aroma, not strong, not sickening, just surprising to the clean-conscious Doctor. Looking about in the barely lit room, Beverly called out, "Will?"

"Here," he answered softly out of one of the shadows.

"What's going on? Please, turn on some light," Dr. Crusher pleaded.

The lighting immediately brightened to just beyond murky, allowing Dr. Crusher to see not only Commander Riker, but the clutter of clothing, under as well as outer, scattered about on the furniture and floor. There were a few oddments of dirty eating utensils and uneaten food, as well. Riker, in a dressing gown that looked worse for the wear, seemed to look a little tattered as he stood uncertainly in the middle of the mess. Even the headdress he still wore was appeared somewhat droopy.

Beverly wavered between a giggle and a sense of concern for the uncommon disheveled appearance of the man and his quarters. "Will, what is going on? Are you sick? Is that why you called me to your quarters? You look flushed."

Riker moved closer to Dr. Crusher. "No, I don't think sick is the word. But why not feel my forehead to see if I have a temperature?" He moved closer again and tried to sniff her hair.

Dr. Crusher moved back. "Will, what are you doing? Why did you call me to your quarters?"

He raised his hand towards her face and looked puzzled when she jerked away. "Actually I have two reasons. One, I think, is fairly obvious. The other is strictly in the line of duty." His voice was again throaty and heavy. "The Kronatina would like you to become acquainted with this Kronatt. Since I am his initial contact, I thought I'd help you with the fit." He lifted his hands to the headdress as if preparing to remove it.

Forgetting the implication in his first remark, Dr. Crusher was absolutely shaken by the second reason. "You want me to wear that? You mean put that thing on my head? No, thank you. Aside from the fact that I don't like to wear hats, I wouldn't be caught dead in the corridors wearing that thing."

"That's fine. You can stay here while you get acquainted. I think you'd look wonderful with the Kronatt on that lovely red hair." Again, he reached out to caress her.

Crusher backpedaled. "No I won't wear that thing and quit pawing at me." She slapped at his hand. "What is wrong with you?" Puffing in exasperation she then called out, "Computer, lights up to normal." She looked at Riker closely in the brightened light. "Will, I think you're coming down with something."

"Computer, dim the lights by half," barked the commander. He was squinting, trying to shield his eyes. As soon as the computer had responded, he reached out to Dr. Crusher again. "We don't need so much light for making love."

Outraged, dodging the grasp, Beverly called out, "Computer lights up and keep them that way by command order of the Chief Medical Officer!"

The brighter illumination seemed to confuse the Commander, which gave her the time she needed to reach the door to the outer corridor. She paused, torn between concern for her own well-being and her duty as a doctor. She slapped her communicator, "Security!"

Riker suddenly halted his advance towards the redhead. "Wait! Security? I'm not going to hurt you. Please, let me; let me make love to you." He had stopped but was reaching towards her, his arms outstretched. "Please?"

Dr. Crusher, half-heeding Security's answer, made a command decision. She slapped her com' insignia again saying, "Standby, Security." Speaking to Will she said, "I think you'd better report to Sick Bay immediately. You're not looking well and you are certainly behaving oddly. I want you there now! You can take time to get dressed and come on your own or you can come as you are with Security."

Riker looked ridiculously hopeful. He struck a pose. "Why not examine me here? It could prove to be very interesting." Will raised his hands to the ties on his robe as if to remove the garment.

At first, Dr. Crusher was taken in by the remark. "Well, it's just that I'll need the diagnostic… I want you in Sick Bay immediately!" She made a sprinting exit.

In Sick Bay Dr. Crusher pressed her communicator and called out the name of Captain Picard. Another member of the Away Team answered her. "This is Lieutenant Sugiki. The Captain has just started another round of talks, so he can't answer you directly. He signaled me to reply. Is there something I can do, Dr. Crusher?"

She informed the lieutenant that Commander Riker seemed to have taken ill and that she had asked him to report to Sick Bay for a routine exam. She emphasized that the situation did not seem to be serious but that she wanted to keep Picard abreast of the matter. She had hardly signaled out when Riker entered looking more feverish than when she had left him just moments before.

He paused, hanging onto the doorframe for support and looked blearily around the room, as if he'd never been there before. He seemed to take careful notice of the examining tables, the computer displays on the walls, the smaller computer terminals placed strategically close to the tables, and of all of the rest of the furnishings of Sick Bay. When he noticed a young nurse standing at a schematic anatomical display, making notes on a handheld board, he advanced. Nearly stumbling before he reached her, but recovering just in time, he tugged at his noticeably stained and wrinkled uniform blouse in an effort to regain some composure. All this while, the drunken smile he'd engaged at the sight of the slim, dark and very young ensign didn't alter. Reaching her, he crowded close and stage whispered, "How would you like to become very well acquainted with a Kronatt and then me?"

Crusher rushed to rescue the confused woman who had no idea of how to behave to a senior officer who was putting the make on her while she was on duty, in uniform, in front of another senior officer. Before the Medical Officer could reach them, however, the color drained from Will Riker's face and he sank, unconscious, to the floor.

"Orderly!" yelled Crusher. Within seconds, several of her staff appeared through several doors and Riker was gently being carried in the arms of one of the larger members of the medical team to a central diagnostic couch. He was preceded by Dr. Crusher who was already keying in the computer for full diagnostic readout. The young nurse who was so embarrassed just a minute earlier was standing at the small terminal near the couch, her agitation gone, ready to assist.

As soon as the orderly had arranged the unconscious commander comfortably on the couch, he stepped back. Riker's head lay at a slight angle to one side, the headdress not permitting him to lay it flat back. The feathers swept back and hung out over the edge of the couch. "Take that damned hat off of him," barked the doctor as her fingers danced urgently over the keyboard attached to the couch. The young man moved to the head of the couch and tried to slip his fingers under the flaps that hugged Riker's face just in front of his ears. Failing to get a purchase that way he tried the more direct approach, grabbing a handful of feathers, putting one hand on Riker's shoulder, and pulling. Though Riker's head moved and his neck stretched, the hat stayed on. Dr. Crusher looked up in annoyance at the orderly.

"It won't come off, Doctor."

Beverly tried to slip her fingers under the close fitting cowl of the hat and met the same resistance as the orderly had, so she bent over and peered at the edges of the headdress. The button eye on that side, gleamed dully at her, seemed to 'see' her. Standing up, she moved back to the computer keyboard saying, "Leave it on for now. Please stand by, I may need you." The remainder of the personnel melted out of the room.

As was required by Starfleet Regulation, and to make sure that everyone assisting knew what was going on, Dr. Crusher spoke aloud as she read the diagnostic display on the board in front of her, knowing every word was being picked up and recorded by the ship's computer. "He has a virus, unknown in origin but I'll bet it's from Kron. But how can that be? The transporter was programmed to screen out any virus! He has a fever of 105 Fahrenheit but no other outward signs, no rash, no change in skin color. Computer is currently working on chemistry to find a vaccine that will kill the virus but not injure Commander Riker. Ensign Greenblatt, please keep an eye on the terminal. I'm going to take another look at this headdress."

Beverly picked up a headband that had a powerful light attached to it from the portable instrument cabinet that had been wheeled to within easy reach. Putting it on, she bent to peer at the edges of the headdress. Jamming a thumb just barely under the flap that came down in front of Will's ear, partially covering his sideburn, she managed to pry just a bit away from the skin. Her voice straining with the effort of bending and exerting force she said, "I have just barely been able to lift some of the headdress away from Commander Riker's skin. I see what appears to be filaments, hundreds of them, coming out from the inside edge of this thing, that have penetrating his skin.

"Here," she said, looking up to the orderly. "Slip your finger under here but not too deep. I don't want these things attacking you." She turned to the instrument cabinet and picked up a diagnostic tool. Switching it on, she aimed the twittering end at the small aperture under the hat. "Just as I thought, they're part of the headdress." She stood up. "I have to come up with some way of taking this thing off without ripping his skin off with it. Those cilia seem to be fully involved with his scalp. Just the small area I have been able to tear loose is looking very raw and irritated now."

Dr. Crusher paused, going over the possibilities in her head. After a moment's consideration, she raised her head, "Diagnostic computer, audio response. Are the filaments penetrating Commander Riker's skin part of the headdress?"

"Define headdress."

"Headdress! That, that thing sitting on Commander Riker's head! Are the filaments part of that!" Her exasperation had her nearly spitting as she spoke.

"Yes, the fibrils penetrating the skin of Commander Riker are part of the... headdress." The answer, incorporating the new word, had a hardly noticeable pause.

An alarming new thought came to Dr. Crusher. "Is the headdress alive?"

"Yes."

The eyes of all three of the attending people moved to the limp spread of featherlike tendrils. With an uneasy voice, she called out to the air, "Is this creature doing anything else to Will– Commander Riker that cannot be observed from the outside? List any observations of variance from Riker's last health exam."

The impassive voice droned out the information in feminine tones. "The fibrils each end in numerous cilia that have either made contact with neuron tissue or have wrapped around substructural dural cells. The fibrils are in direct contact with Commander Riker's subdural nerves as well as with nerves of the spinal column through the first, second and third cervical spinal ganglia. There is evidence of partial involvement of the sympathetic and parasympathetic nerves at that location. Chemicals are being transmitted via the cilia. The virus which is affecting Riker's health is being transmitted via the cilia."

"What are the chemicals?"

The computer voice started listing the elements in its concise, precise delivery.

Beverly held up her hand reflexively. "Stop the list. Do a printout. I recognize one combination as being a drug that produces a light hypnotic state. List the effects of all of these chemicals on humans.

There was a slight pause. "One is a light, local anesthetic. One produces the effect of mild hypnotic trance. One suppresses certain functions of the cerebral cortex leaving pathways open to unrestrained functions of the thalamus and the hypothalamus. One slightly enhances hormonal secretions, primarily those effecting sexual activity and the coronal behavior patterns." The computer-generated voice fell silent.

Dr. Crusher nodded. "I thought so. Aside from the effects of the drugs, does the neural contact have any affect on Commander Riker?"

"Unknown at this time."

"Can the headdress be removed without harming Commander Riker?"

"Unknown at this time."

"Will Commander Riker suffer undue consequences if the ha...headdress is not removed."

"Unknown at this time."

Three responses of "Unknown at this time," was the doctor's patience limit. She had long ago learned that once she got on a sequence of 'unknown' responses that she would likely continue to elicit the same repeatedly. She'd analyzed, once upon a reflective moment, that she often seemed to stop thinking when dealing with the non-thinking microchip, liquid crystal stuff that comprised the computer. Sometimes she wondered if it was because there was some sort of built in computer wisdom that would cause it endlessly to refuse to answer questions best suited to human inspiration. She also wondered why the programmer hadn't inserted the one answer that would best fit the moment, something like, 'Think, you silly-ass doctor!'

"Okay," she said out loud.

"Do you wish further information?" the bodiless female voice asked dispassionately.

"Computer, end audio response." Dr. Crusher said firmly. She continued with vocalizing her own thoughts for the benefit of the records and her assistants. "Okay, we know the hat is holding on to Commander Riker with those filaments and injecting him with chemicals as well as a virus. There is no physiological harm being done to the nerves as shown by the diagnostics. As far as we know, the harm is from the virus that has been transmitted via the subdural penetration.

"We also know the hat is alive, but we don't know what purpose those filaments fulfill. Since they're in contact with his nervous system, I can't help but wonder if this thing is affecting his mind in any way other than what the drugs may be doing. I see nothing on the displays or in his outward appearance, so apparently, it doesn't affect any gross motor control, and aside from natural reactions to the viral infection, his autonomic reactions are normal. That still leaves his conscious behavior."

The young nurse standing at the small computer terminal interjected, "How about increased libido?"

Beverly had been concentrating so hard on the problem at hand she had forgotten about the commander's advances on the nurse as well as her own encounter in Will's quarters and D'Jang's conversational report. She gave a brief smile to the young ensign, "Yes, increased libido has been observed." Pausing, mentally reviewing, then resuming, she said, "The creature seems dormant now but maintains its hold on Commander Riker's head. I'd say we should try to remove the thing, but the question is, how?"

The orderly spoke up, "Stun? Shoot it with a phaser on lightest stun?"

Beverly almost seemed to accept the answer as a solution but then her eyes flickered. "How to set the range short enough so as not to penetrate to Commander Riker?"

The orderly shook his head, "I don't think there's a way to do that. Sorry."

"No, that's okay, Lieutenant Bismark, shows you're thinking. Think some more."

Again the orderly spoke, "Injection?"

Beverly thought a moment and shook her head. "We can see the anatomy but have no idea what it means, or of the metabolism. We don't know what it might respond to or what might even kill it."

All were silent a moment. The young nurse spoke, "Electric shock."

Dr. Crusher shook her head, but the ensign persisted. "Something mild maybe, you know, like what we used back in first year zoology to get flatworms to move. Remember? I was thinking of just putting the shock to the fibrils. It wouldn't necessarily affect the whole creature."

Dr. Crusher nodded. "It might work. Sort of like slapping its fingers rather than knocking it out entirely." She thought a moment longer. "Yes, and I think we even have an electric shock needle here." She turned towards the instrument cabinet then paused. "But, you know what? I think I'd better talk with Captain Picard before we do anything. Believe it or not, this, this thing is supposed to be a representative of Kron. We thought it was just a fancy hat. I don't have one iota of information on the lesser animal life. What we propose sounds harmless enough but it could cause damage. Since Commander Riker's condition is stable, drastic action is not necessary, yet." Dr. Crusher tapped her communicator button.

TBC to Chapter 14

Questions? Comments? Submit a review!


	14. Lack of Diplomacy

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: The conference doesn't go well.

Chapter 14

"Get me Captain Picard."

Within seconds Picard's concerned voice replied, "Doctor, I was just about to contact you. Is Will all right? Lieutenant Sugiki said you'd called him into Sick Bay."

She filled the captain in on the events. When she related Riker's odd behavior with herself, Commander T'Shing and the young nurse, Picard mentioned his observations of his manners to Worf on the bridge.

"But wait a moment," Picard interrupted himself, "You say the hat is alive?"

Beverly confirmed.

"And it seems to be holding onto his head?"

"Yes, which is how the virus is being transmitted. It's some bug that our wide range vaccinations simply don't cover. The diagnostic computer has a sample of Will's blood and I'm sure it'll quickly come up with something that will kill the virus and not Will; the problem is, we don't know what the vaccine might do to the animal. I'd hate to damage the mission by killing this thing, but I want to get it off of him. We've come up with an idea, although it could be harmful to the creature, so I thought I'd better talk with you. I don't imagine it'll help diplomatic relations to harm it. It might be their national symbol or something." Dr. Crusher found these last words hard to say. She had been charged with maintaining the health and well-being of people, especially the people on board the Enterprise. Allowing an animal to harm a person for the sake of friendly relations was outside her intentions. However, her commanding officer was now trying to set up a structure of diplomacy and it was part of her duty to provide support for his efforts, not tear it down.

Picard's sigh came over the ship's speakers quite clearly. "I'm afraid you're right. I'll have to talk with the Kronatina. I'll have Worf set up a vocal monitoring for you into Sick Bay so that you'll be able to hear me as I talk with them. If they impart any information that will get that animal away from Riker, use it immediately."

"Yes, Captain," answered the medic.

"And Beverly," the captain's voice became encouraging, "If they don't give us a satisfactory answer very soon, you may find your own solutions." He could not see her smile in the assurance that her captain supported her as much as she did him. "Keep me informed please, especially if there is any change for the worse."

A moment later Picard was talking with Worf on the bridge. "I'll want you to carefully monitor us. They may have a perfectly reasonable answer about why they gave us a creature with such dangerous capabilities but they may also have had ulterior motives and feel the need to take action against us. I want you to transport us out of here at the slightest hint of danger."

"Yes, sir. I suggest I send an armed security team down, now."

"Thank you, but I don't think so, not just yet. Just be prepared to get us out of here before we wish we had protection."

Worf's confirmation was plainly gilded with his disapproval. "I will have Chief O'Brien stand—Sir! the Ferengi vessel has just taken up orbit."

Picard's face took on an ironic expression. "Their timing is, as usual, remarkably annoying. Hale them and ask them to stand by please while I deal with the current situation. Say as little as possible to them." Picard knew better than to ask the honorable Klingon to tell even a white lie.

The face of the Klingon did not change expressions. "Aye, sir."

Picard continued, "I certainly hope that none of these precautions will be necessary. They should have no reason to want to undermine our activities at this point. Stand by, audio on. I'm ready to address the Kronatina now."

The scene on the large screen on the bridge reverted to the view of the planet as seen from orbit but Picard's voice as well as those of the Kronatina could still be heard.

"Oh, A's'kahn'a, I have just had some very disturbing news from my ship. Commander Riker, the one who was making his acquaintance with your representative, has fallen ill. Apparently, he has contracted a virus from the Kronatt. It was passed on to him because your representative has somehow gripped onto Commander Riker's head. It is also injecting chemicals that may have affected or may yet affect his behavior."

A slight sound of shuffling was heard and then a Kronatt voice, still much like a goat's bleat, said, "Is our representative all right? He is not injured? You have not hurt him?"

Picard was obviously choosing his words carefully. "As far as I know your friend is as fine as he was before Commander Riker collapsed, but our medical team cannot remove it from his head."

"He is safe, then?"

"No, Commander Riker is very ill and we're very concerned."

"But S's'haht'a is safe?"

"We don't know. It, he, is sitting on a seriously ill man!" Picard had to take a breath to regain his composure. "Please, can you tell us how to remove your representative from Riker's head?"

There was a sound of more shuffling. "It is not necessary to remove S's'haht'a. S's'haht'a should remain with your Riker."

"Please! I ask you how we can remove your friend without causing harm either to him or to my officer. My medical officer assures me that it will be best to remove, uh, to separate the two. Please, we mean no harm to S's'haht'a. You must understand that, in order to properly treat Commander Riker, we must inject him with a vaccine that may somehow harm S's'haht'a. All we ask is to know how to induce S's'haht'a to release his hold." Captain Picard's voice was acquiring the pitch and cadence so often familiar to the members of the Enterprise. Riker had once said of that quality, 'When Captain Picard talks like that, he could plead the Devil's case to a jury of religious fundamentalists and get him off with a light sentence.'

The Kronatina relented. "We would go to your ship-home and bring our friend home."

Dr. Crusher's voice sounded quietly from the communicator. "Captain?" The Kronatina could not hear the voice.

Picard bowed to the Kronatina. "A moment please. One of my fellows wishes to communicate." He turned his back on the diplomatic group. "Dr. Crusher?"

"If they come on board then they must do so without wearing those creatures on their heads. The virus is very likely transmitted only through body fluids, however, I don't know that, and I'd rather not take the chance."

Picard's voice lowered to a murmur, apparently in hopes of not being overheard. "Those things, as you call them, are apparently highly regarded members of their society. They're referred to as Kronatt in the same way as their...wearers."

Dr. Crusher's response was quick. "My apologies to the Kronatina. I don't wish to offend them. My policy remains the same. I'd welcome their aid but they must leave their. .friends behind."

Captain Picard raised his voice to be purposely overheard this time. "But, Dr. Crusher, are you not concerned that the rest of the Kronatina are carrying similar virus?"

"No, Captain." The answer was swift. "One of the duties of the original contact team was to check the Kronatina for diseases that could be transmitted to Federation members so biofilters of the transporters could be adjusted accordingly. They also developed antidotes and vaccines for anyone who was to go planet side. That is standard medical procedure. No one thought to check the headdresses."

"I see. Very well then." He turned to the Kronatina, "Oh, A's'kahn'a, I would welcome you aboard the Enterprise but we have one stipulation. I will have to ask you to leave your ah, fellows, er, those who you wear on your head, you must leave them behind when you accompany us to the Enterprise. It seems the biofilters on our transporter are not adjusted to their systems."

The goat voice screeched, "That is not possible! One cannot function without the other! Take us intact. Take us now! We wish to rescue our friend!"

Captain Picard's voice thundered over the distraught Kronatt, "It is not your friend that is currently at risk. It is my first officer who is at risk. If you cannot bring yourselves to come without your, your attachés," he could only hope this was a correct term, "then please, just tell us how to make this one who is with Commander Riker, let go!"

Worf fidgeted on the bridge while the sound of shuffling and mumbled words from the Kronatina came over the ship's speakers. Not only had the Ferengi been nearly insane over their lack of protection from the Romulans, but they had wanted to immediately transport down to the meeting. Only when the Klingon had hinted that Romulans might be present (Worf knew they were at a meeting somewhere on the planet, so it might be in the same room for all he knew), did they consent to wait to hear directly from Captain Picard before proceeding. They'd included that they'd be listening to the ongoing transmission to 'make sure they would not be dealt out of the picture behind their backs.' This, and the escalating situation on Kron, was making shivers of anticipation run up and down the Klingon's spine.

Captain Picard's voice spoke very quietly apparently strictly for Worf's benefit. "A Kronatt has just left the hall. I hope they're seeking wiser council."

A's'kahn'a, who was speaking also, sounded subdued. "If S's'haht'a does not have contact of one with whom he is familiar, if the Commander Riker does not agree that to part company is good, then our friend will find it best to stay where he is. You say S's'haht'a is in no danger. You say we may not rescue him. Your Commander Riker is ill and cannot agree to part company. We do not know what to do."

"You mean, you cannot tell us how to remove your friend from Commander Riker?"

"There must be our company present or agreement between the two."

"Dr. Crusher, would it be possible to transport Commander Riker down here?"

"I'm sorry Captain, I won't take that chance. He's stabilized only by constant monitoring of the medical equipment here."

"We seem to be at an impasse. Perhaps if you could explain why these fellows of yours are so important in your functioning—"

The sound of footsteps approaching could be heard by those on board ship.

A's' kahn' a' bleated, "You seem to wish to hold one of ours on your ship. We would like to make it so you will be our guest here."

"I am sure those are police approaching us. Now, Mr. O'Brien!"

The entire away team sparkled and faded away from Kron.

TBC to Chapter 15

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	15. Escape and Regroup

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: The mission isn't going well.

Chapter 15

"Status, Mr. Worf." Captain Picard, wasting no time, spoke before the turbolift doors were even fully open.

"The Kronatina are assembling every one of their ships into formation around all of us, including the Romulans and the Ferengi." The Klingon looked disdainful, "That is, I believe they think it is a formation. A Ferengi child would use a more effective strategy."

Captain Picard looked sharply at Worf. "Have the Ferengi made contact?"

Worf sneered. "Yes sir. They wanted to transport to the surface to join you in the last few moments but I convinced them to wait until they heard from you."

"Good work, Mr. Worf. I shall deal with them shortly. Anything else? Have the Romulans been in contact?"

"No, sir, the Romulans have made no effort to communicate." Worf's voice picked up interest. "My instruments detect some sort of ground weaponry being aimed at us. They are primitive and I do not consider them a threat. It is possible they would not even have power to reach us."

Assuming a nervous stance in front of the command chair, Captain Picard took a calculating look at the view of several Kron ships within close proximity of the Enterprise. "Hmmm, yes they have had such a long history of peace I'm surprised they've any sort of weaponry at all. They're an extraordinary people in that regard. What about the ships at hand, do they have weapons?"

Worf kept a watchful eye on his board in front of him while he spoke to the captain. "Yes sir but they are also quite primitive. Some of them are of the mechanical explosive type in a variety of nuclear devices and some are laser beam. None of them would penetrate our shields. An incoming message, sir."

"Put it on screen."

The Kronatt on screen was unusually short but held himself in such a way as to denote dignity and fortitude. "Are you the Captain Picard?" The odd jerks and bobbing seemed somewhat more contained.

"I am."

"Please prepare for us to join airlocks so that we may board you. I am instructed to retrieve my fellow Kronatt."

"You are most welcome but you must leave your own fellow Kronatt, the one on your head, behind. If that is not suitable, we will cheerfully return the other fellow Kronatt as soon as we can dislodge it, him, from Commander Riker."

"If you do not comply willingly, we will board you by force." The Kronatt's halter was decorated with bits of metal and colored buttons on both of the shoulder straps. Picard recognized the simple, direct approach of a fellow military man.

"Worf," he said quietly, "shields up. Ship on yellow alert.

"I'm afraid you'll find even closely approaching us is quite impossible. We have force fields we use as shields for defense. If you come too close I'm afraid you may find your power systems will suffer some damage and possibly the very integrity of the hulls of your ships may be put at risk. Please, before taking any undue risks, wait. We mean no harm and we wish no harm to you or from you. We're working on this difficulty and will find a way to resolve it to the satisfaction of all."

The Kronatt regarded him wordlessly for some seconds. Finally, moving a gray furred hand to the board in front of him, the picture blanked out.

"We have lost contact. Shall I try to re-establish?"

"No, Worf. He broke the contact on purpose. He'll await further orders." Picard seemed to make some mental notes before he said, "Hail the Ferengi vessel."

After a moment Worf said, "They are on visual."

The large screen on the forward bridge showed a very agitated Ferengi. The rate of his eye twitches was doubled, his clutching hands wrapped around each other again and again. "What have you gotten us into? Return their friend! Why involve us in your mismanaged affairs?"

Picard assumed the coldly quiet attitude that was the only manner one could use with the Ferengi and stay sane. "If you wish, you may withdraw to another orbit and start your own negotiations. We will broadcast a disavowal of any relationship with you. By the way, who am I addressing?"

The face of the Ferengi went through several changes. First, he seemed to think that Captain Picard's suggestion was a good one, and then he seemed to wonder at hidden intentions. "I am Daimon Tar An. Leave our position? You're all that stands between the Romulans and us! Leave us to the wrath of the Kronatina that you have incurred? Make us sitting ducks for the Romulans?"

Captain Picard nodded his head quietly smiling. "It's your choice."

The Ferengi sneered. "Yes, and we do not choose your solution. We'll maintain our orbit as it is and we'll contact the Kronatina and open separate negotiations. When we are offered the friendship of one of their head coverings we will be somewhat more gracious than you, I assure you. And we do expect you to keep those Romulan mad dogs on their leash!"

Before Picard could voice objection or caution, the Ferengi had ended the transmission. Captain Picard stood staring at nothing for a moment, reviewing the events. He would have very much liked to have turned to Commander Riker at that moment and asked what he thought of the developments.

&&&&

When Picard had hit the floor of the transport room at a run, he'd also signaled Beverly. "Dr. Crusher, do whatever is necessary to get that hat off of my number one officer. Try not to injure the creature, but get it off!"

On hearing these words, Dr. Crusher picked up the instrument she had dug out of the deeps of the medical cabinet while listening to Picard's efforts down on Kron. A cylinder about three fingers in diameter and the length of a long hand, it had a thick wire extending outwards for about half the length of the cylinder. She had already checked that the self-contained power source still worked. When she pressed the small button on the side of the cylinder with her thumb, she could hear the faint sound as electricity made the wire hum. She had even tested the instrument out on herself. When the wire was touched lightly onto her skin and the button was depressed, she felt a faint and slightly annoying tingle. Just to be sure, she turned the instrument up to the highest level, which felt like she had been hit sharply with a pointed object but she suffered no physical damage.

Thus armed, she turned to the Commander. Speaking to the orderly who was standing at the head of the couch she said, "I want you to lift up that flap in front of his ear and jam your finger in and then pull up as much as you can. I'm going to then put the wire under the flap, and see what happens. You grab a handful of those feathers near the back and as soon as I turn this on, you get ready to pull." When the orderly found a purchase under the flap with one finger and wrapped a hand around and under the feathers at the back of the creature, Dr. Crusher bent forward and pushed the wire at the hundreds of fine cilia exposed and pressed the button with her thumb. Suddenly the young man was sitting on the floor trying to balance between falling over completely and not dropping the creature while Dr. Crusher was calming the suddenly aroused Commander Riker.

"Are you all right?" The doctor asked both men.

As the orderly nodded, he realized he had a contaminating object in his arms. He quickly put it on the floor and jumped up. At the same time, the groggy and disoriented Commander Riker tried to nod and raise himself. One eye on the orderly and one on Riker, assured that both were in no imminent trouble, Crusher pushed the still struggling commander back down. It was no contest.

"Doctor," called out the nurse still monitoring the terminal to one side, "the computer has come up with an antibiotic for Riker."

"Perfect timing! Get a dose into a hypo and give it to him," said Crusher while she was trying to get Will to focus onto her. "Will! Look at me, Will. It's Beverly. How are you feeling?"

Watching him struggle and fail, the doctor could see the exertion too much for him. She chewed at her lower lip as Riker passed out again, then checked the diagnostic readout and affirmed that his condition was slightly improved but still grave. Calling out to the nurse who was at the medicinal dispenser across the room she said, "Hurry with that hypo," and maternally brushed a lock of Will's hair from his forehead.

"Doctor?" The Lieutenant, Junior Grade, who was acting as orderly that shift, stood keeping a wary eye on the inert creature on the floor. "What'll I do with this thing?"

Beverly frowned down at the mass of colorful tendrils. "Use a pair of tongs to put it on a tray, and then put it on the diagnostic bed over there. When you're done, be sure and get a shot of the antibiotic for yourself."

"Suppose that thing can fly? Then what?" The orderly looked warily at the still unmoving creature.

"It's not a bird. In fact, I'm not even sure it can move on its own. It may be that the only way it can move is through being carried. Look, just do it." Beverly was trying to be sympathetic with the man's fears, but her patience was being strained.

While he did as he was told, the nurse hurried over to the couch and pressed the hypodermic instrument to Commander Riker's shoulder.

Just about then, she heard Captain Picard's voice, inquiring as to whether she had anything to report.

Dr. Crusher smiled. "Captain, yes, I have good news. We removed the creature from Will's head. It apparently doesn't like even the mildest electric shock. The computer came up with a vaccine and the nurse just now gave it to the commander."

"How is he? Is he conscious?"

"He gained consciousness for a moment but passed out again. I think he'll be just fine. He'll probably be awake and trying to resume his duties in another half hour or so."

The Captain's voice reflected his acknowledgment of his first officer's eagerness to perform his job, "Well, you keep him there until you are sure he's recovered. What about the creature?"

"I have it on a diagnostic couch now. I might as well check it out for any other communicable diseases."

"It's still alive then? Did it come to any harm?"

The doctor looked speculatively at the creature. As the orderly had placed it on the couch, she had asked him to please turn it, so the carapace and glittery eyes were turned away from her so the view was of the more flattering mass of feathers. "I wish I could say, but I just don't know. There's no indication of life, but then we had none before except for the word of the computer. I'll have to take a look at it and get back to you."

A brief pause from the captain. "How soon will that be? This creature seems to have a great significance to the Kronatina and our whole relationship is revolving around it at the moment."

Riker will probably stay asleep for at least the next few minutes. I'll run a diagnostic now and have the information immediately. Why don't you just listen in for a moment?" Beverly was already moving to the computer terminal nearest the couch that held the Kronatt.

"I'll stay in contact."

Dr. Crusher ran her fingers in a tapping dance over the control board of the terminal. She could have used the board that attached directly to the couch, but she chose to keep a distance from the thing that looked for all the world like something that only an exotic dancer would wear. The board on the wall lit up as well as the monitor on the terminal. "Yes, Captain. It's still alive and seems to register much the same as it did when we first monitored it."

"Good. Carry on as before. I'll allow it to be in your care so you can check it for disease. As soon as we can, we'll retrieve it and hopefully return it to its rightful owner. Keep me informed as to Commander Riker's progress. Picard out."

"Captain, one more thing?"

"Can it wait?"

"I just was thinking that perhaps Dr. T'Shing would be of more help on the creature."

Before the reply, there was a brief pause. Beverly knew Picard was going through a vast array of knowledge, reviewing the thought. "Ah, yes, of course. Good thinking! Anything else?"

"No, sir."

"Picard out."

TBC to Chapter 16

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	16. Meanwhile

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Guinan plays dumb, Data takes his show on the road, and D'Jang makes a discovery.

Chapter 16

Ten Forward was busy in spite of the Yellow Alert. Everybody had checked in with their commands and were ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Guinan was drifting from group to group, table to table, overseeing without intruding, was generally unobserved unless she wanted to be. The wedding reception was as alive and well as it had been when it started and needed no help. A couple of members had had to leave because of the Alert, but their absence had not dampened the party spirit.

Guinan was purposely avoiding the table where the young yeoman and the Tarlusian were seated. She had seen their reunion from the beginning, noticing that when first the yeoman entered, he'd looked about and had then a table alone; seen his face when the Tarlusian had entered, had seen that first spark of recognition, the rejection of the recognition and then the blank stare. She didn't have to listen in on the conversation to know what course it took. At first, the Tarlusian had done all the talking, explaining, actually. The reactions from the young yeoman were predictable; questioning his friend's change, recognizing the fact that he had not been trusted, feeling hurt. Then the talk began flowing back and forth: accusation and complaint, explanation of assumptions and apologies, resistance to the apologies, ruffled feelings, new ground rules laid, etc. Finally, the conversation turned to inconsequentials. Guinan approached the table ostensibly to check to see if they required any service.

The yeoman hailed her cheerfully, "Guinan, look who I found! Zidadit!"

"You found! My great aunt nebula! I called you!" The Tarlusion cuffed his companion's arm.

Deciding to play along, Guinan said, "But you told me your friend was a girl." She winked ever so slightly at Zidadit.

"He was!" He turned to stare admiringly at his friend. "Only he forgot to tell me that next time I should be on the lookout for my friend, the 'man' with blue skin." He grinned at Guinan. "Can you imagine forgetting to tell somebody about that?"

Guinan shrugged and said, "I'd find it a little confusing. Don't you mind? I mean, you used to have a girlfriend."

The yeoman shrugged back and said, "Nope! Man friend, woman friend, I can still beat the daylights out of him in chess and he'll win easier at racquetball and..." he paused, his face lighting up with delight. "Wrestling! Hey! You've put on some extra muscle mass. It was the only thing we couldn't do before."

Zidadit stood up, "You're on. Come on, best three out of five."

The yeoman stood up so fast his chair almost fell over. "You'll only be prolonging the agony. I'd have settled for two out of three." He headed for the exit.

"What's the matter, afraid of three falls?" Zidadit called after the retreating figure. He turned briefly to Guinan and said, "Thanks. I owe you." He trotted towards the exit.

Guinan smirked to herself, "That's what they all say." She turned her attention to a sound that had been nagging at her for a couple of minutes. It was the sound of cards being ruffled and Data's voice saying, "Pick a card, any card."

Data was standing at the bar with Chief O'Brien and his wife Keiko. He had a deck of cards fanned out in his hand and was proffering them to Keiko.

Keiko looked questioningly at Data and then turned to look at her husband.

Chief O'Brien shrugged. "Don't look at me. I don't know what this is about."

Data obliged them both with an explanation. "I am currently making a study of the human desire to be mystified. I am following the pattern set long ago by performers. According to the information I have found about magicians in recorded history, I am about to perform a trick that is always a crowd pleaser, always causes people to wonder how it is done, to wonder what powers the performer has. I am about to awe you, to set you to wondering. Please, take a card from anywhere in the deck."

Data had continued holding the cards out with a frozen look of invitation on his face as he spoke. Keiko shrugged and reached out for the deck. As she did so, Data turned his head to one side with a jerk. "I am averting my gaze as you take out the card. I want you to look at the card and show it to Mr. O'Brien and anyone else you care to. Do not show it to me. When you are finished put the card back into the deck in any part you wish."

When Keiko had done as she was instructed Data swung his head to face front, stopping just short of whiplash. "Now," he said as he stepped back, "I will shuffle the cards. Notice that at no time do I look at the cards. At no time do the cards leave my hands. At no time do my hands leave my arms." While he spoke, he shuffled the cards with lightning speed, all the while staring deadpan into Keiko's face. Truth to tell, no one could see Data's hands operate, so no one would have been able to swear they didn't leave his arms. Only knowing that Data couldn't lie was enough proof. At times, the cards seemed to hang in mid-air shuffling of their own accord. Suddenly Data stopped. He affected a pose so that he had one hand on his hip, bending slightly at the waist, his other hand extended towards Keiko with the deck of cards, perfectly stacked, in his upward palm. "Would you please take the top card and look at it?"

Keiko took the top card, a perplexed look on her face. She looked from the card to Data.

"Is it the card you originally took from the deck?" Data asked, standing up straight.

Keiko giggled and said, "Well, of course, Data."

Data frowned slightly. "Of course?" he queried. "But, were you not amazed? Do you not question how it is your card was shuffled so that it came from somewhere within the deck to the top at the last shuffle?"

Keiko smiled at Data and said, "Why should I be amazed, Data? You handled the cards with inhuman speed and precision. You worked faster than my eye could follow, and that's nothing new, I've seen you go that fast before."

Data inclined his head towards Keiko slightly. "There is something about the art that mystifies most humans. Were you not mystified Keiko? Chief?"

Keiko put a consoling hand on Data's arm. "Well, Data, maybe it was because I know that you can move faster than my eye can follow. There's no mystery. I have no doubt you knew the position of every card even while you were shuffling."

Data's head went into the cocked position again. "There has never been any question that the great magicians of the centuries, ever since Houdini on Earth or Vhourto of the Klingons, used tricks, actions so subtle that the eye missed them."

Chief O'Brien spoke up, "It wasn't a question of how did you do it. Don't you see? We know you can work faster than the eye can follow. It's fun to watch, but amazing? Hardly."

Data internalized the information a moment. He looked up at his two friends and said, "You mean that the parlor tricks are good for a slight diversion but that I should not plan to take the show out on the road?"

The two looked at each other and each said, one after the other, "Come again? On the road?"

Considering again, Data said, "Come to think of it. Maybe you are just a tough audience. If they do not like it in New Bedford, that doesn't mean they will not like it in Poughkeepsie. I think I will try my act out on that table over there. Will you please excuse me?" Not realizing he had achieved his aim, he left the now mystified pair at the bar and advanced on a group seated around one of the tables.

About half an hour later Guinan found Data seated alone at the bar, a deck of slightly frayed playing cards placed to one side. Data had the 'internal search mode' stamped on his face. Standing in front of the android, Guinan said, "How's it going, Data?"

"They did not like it in Poughkeepsie either, Guinan."

Guinan nodded and smiled, "You don't say?"

Data almost replied, then changed his mind, and instead said, "Ah! Rhetorical statement of neutral quality, usually requiring no reply, or, as in this case, a way of seeking more information. Am I correct?"

Guinan smiled congenially but said nothing.

"I was using some rather obscure metaphors as used by vaudeville people in the late 19th and early 20th Century. In fact, such statements were probably made by showmen throughout Earth history, though the naming of the cities varied—"

Guinan smiled and nodded. "I say again, 'how's it going?' You laying aside your card tricks?" She reached under the bar and pulled out a bar rag and began wiping casually at nonexistent spills.

Data glanced at the cards. "I shall have to devise some other way to study human fascination with being mystified. Everyone seems to take my attempts at legerdemain as merely a fine display of mechanical abilities." Data looked at one of his hands, turned it palm up wiggled his fingers and dropped it back to the bar. He shrugged, seemed to make an adjustment, and said, "For now I shall, instead, do some research on the art of puns."

Guinan abruptly stopped wiping and stared hard at Data. Talking as if her life depended on it, she said, "Data, I think I'd better tell you something about human nature. You see, almost no one minds magic tricks and a lot of people even like them. Puns, on the other hand, are a different matter altogether. Either people like them or they hate them. Now, I like puns myself but you see, the people that hate them, do so with alarming acerbity. Frankly, I think that if you're going to try your luck with puns, you should not, I repeat not, try them out in Ten Forward."

"Why?" questioned Data.

"Because, people who don't like puns will either start avoiding the place where the puns were committed or they may even be brought to violence. I've never had to call the security team to Ten Forward and I don't want to start. I like the people who come into Ten Forward, all of them, and I'd hate to think that many would stay away for the next year or so. Do you get my meaning?"

"You mean that I should restrict my experimentation with puns to anywhere but Ten Forward?"

"I would suggest you should include anywhere of general public assembly but yes, Ten Forward specifically."

"Ah! I will take your words to memory. The information is probably useful. Every pun in its place."

Guinan looked around sharply to see if anyone had heard. "Data!"

"Excuse me, Guinan, I will not do it again."

"Data, my mother thanks you, my father thanks you, my sister thanks you, and I thank you. Now take your puns and go knock 'em dead in Poughkeepsie."

Data passed Doc D'Jang coming in as he was going out. "Doc D'Jang, may I bring Spot in for a checkup, soon?"

"Sure, Data. Is something wrong?"

"No, Doctor, it is just that, well, you might say he just is not spot-on." Data cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

D'Jang looked at him inquiringly. "Pardon?"

Data was about to answer but noticed Guinan standing close by. "There is nothing wrong with him that I know of but I will never-the-less bring him in for a checkup when I can. Thank you."

D'Jang shook her head, wondering what that little exchange had been all about, and then remembered what she had come in for. She spied Guinan and went over to her.

"I came in here sort of hoping I'd see some beast of a person with bloody hands and a wild look in his eyes."

Guinan theatrically looked around the deck and peered under the bar. "Nope, no one of that description here. If I see him, shall I tell him to get in contact with you?"

D'Jang looked at Guinan with a jaundiced eyed. "No, just tell him to go directly to Security and turn himself in. That'll save time all around." She looked about casually and waived a silent greeting to Keiko. She noticed that one of the newlywed couples was circulating among the tables, receiving congratulations. Even from the other side of the deck from where D'Jang stood, the multi-hued woman, shy and clinging closely to her husband, was hard to miss. "I see the wedding took place." She cocked her head as if listening to something, then shook her head briefly in dismissal.

Noticing the gesture, Guinan said, "You hear something?"

"Aw, I must be getting old or something. Maybe I'm just tired. I'd swear I just got a feeling of animal in here. No animals allowed in Ten Forward though, right?" Guinan nodded. "Sensing animal in Riker, animal here, I think maybe I need a nap."

"How about something to help you relax?" Guinan's face had taken on that sweet, caring expression reserved for the people who needed to wind down from a hard day.

"What are you suggesting?" D'Jang slid onto one of the bar stools.

"I've got two never-fail relaxers, take your pick. Warm milk or catnip tea. Either one will help you to sleep and you'll pop right awake if we go to Red Alert."

D'Jang said without hesitation, "I'll take the warm milk with a bit of sugar and a hint of vanilla. No catnip tea for me. That stuff always tastes like the smell of a field of dry weeds on a hot humid day."

Guinan turned to get the preparation but was stopped by the arrival of one of the wedding party at the bar. A young man leaned forward urgently and called, "Guinan. Would it be all right if Tameena and Jonina did a little dance for everybody?"

"Dance?" Guinan queried. "What sort of dance? There isn't room for them to do much."

"It's not much. They just," he waved his hands, "and well, slither around." He grinned. "Oh, please. It'll be fun. Everybody'll like it."

Guinan was an easy mark for a polite request. She nodded and smiled. "Sure, I bet it'll be interesting. Just tell them to keep it gentle." The young man had left before she could finish. Smiling as she shook her head, looking at D'Jang, she said, "I'll get the milk."

By the time D'Jang was taking her first sip, the dancing had begun.

Three of the party, two clapping in intricate unison, another clapping a counterpoint, were providing the 'music'. From their places beside the men they had married, the two girls each started swaying in time to the beat of the claps, then stepped out, their bodies gracefully following along, their hands weaving delicate patterns, their fingers fluttering in time with the counterpoint. The claps were steady, persistent, but not particularly fast. The steps of the girls took them around the tables, past fascinated people. Each girl did an individual dance, different from the other yet much the same. Each ignored the other even when their paths among the tables brought them within inches. The looks on their faces were anxious, eager and effort filled.

D'Jang, at first, watched passively. She was simply filling in the time, waiting for the soothing effects of the beverage to take effect, and gazed appreciatively at the beautiful movements of the lovely creatures. One of them moved closer, her intent, apparently, to dance up to the bar. But no sooner had the girl reached her goal than D'Jang, who had been leaning back casually in the stool, sat up with a jerk.

TBC to Chapter 17

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	17. Romulans, Ferengi, and Love

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: D'Jang explains the facts of life to two lovesick pups.

Chapter17

Captain Picard stood quietly on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, ruminating on the events of the day so far. Abruptly he said, "Mr. Worf, please hail the Romulan vessel.

A moment later Worf reported, "Visual on screen, Captain."

The Romulan face looked closer to an eruption of violence than usual. "I see you're faring no better than we."

Picard tugged at his uniform blouse. "Oh? Are you experiencing some difficulty?"

Closer to violence yet, the face came. "We were abruptly told to leave! They have the same ill manners as Klingons." The eyes flicked for a fraction of a second to the figure on the upper bridge behind Captain Picard.

Picard ignored the remark. "Did they give any reason for their behavior?"

"None."

Picard didn't need Deanna's sensitivity to tell him the Romulan captain was lying.

"We're beginning to suspect their purposes in luring all of us here."

"Luring us? It is we who requested the meeting and, to my knowledge, you came here of your own accord."

The Romulan, with a brief flick of his eyes, dismissed Picard's words. "With two entire planets rich in ore, who would not request a meeting? We believe this talk of trade is a ruse. They are very likely not as naive as they seem. I think the first encounter with you was likely no happenstance."

Picard maintained a guarded attitude. "Oh?"

"The Romulan Empire and the Federation have exchanged many messages, to say nothing of the communications among ourselves. Surely, considering the proximity to Romulan space, they have encountered some of our talk."

It was Picard's turn to dismiss the words of Captain Lareth. "They don't have subspace technology."

As if annoyed with Picard's intransigent stupidity, Lareth said, "There is always some leakage from subspace. And don't be too sure of their lack of technology. They could well be keeping their fires shielded. They may well know how large and rich the Romulans are. They could be courting you to help them attain conquest over us."

Picard was about to lose patience. "Bosh!"

The Romulan hooded his eyes under heavy lids. "Every civilization is rife with tales of a wily being enlisting the help of a gullible passerby to attain a sought after prize. They pretend to welcome us, but then, become, oh, so righteously offended at a small act, so they can then claim to be on your side." Lareth raised his cold, hard stare directly into Picard's grey eyes. "But we are not so gullible."

"And how do you explain their animosity towards us?"

"There are always variations to the tale. I assure you, we intend to stay here and uncover them. Thus, I am in the strange position of possibly having to help you if they should attack."

"How so?"

"Surely you recognize that should they fire on you they could well endanger us?"

"And surely you have recognized that none of their weapons are capable of doing either of us the slightest harm if we merely maintain our shields."

Again the negligible motion of dismissal from the Romulan's hand. "You think they aren't hiding powerful and likely dangerous weapons? They have them cloaked in some way, we are positive. I assure you, Captain Picard, we are determined to maintain close surveillance of this planet in hopes of finding those weapons before they have a chance to use them. If, however, they make any sort of aggressive move, do anything more than aim those bows and arrows they now display so obviously, we will be forced to fire our weapons."

Captain Picard frowned in alarm, but before he could frame an answer, Lieutenant Worf spoke up.

"Sir, we are being hailed by the Ferengi."

Picard had no doubt what the call was about. "Put them up on the screen as well, Mr. Worf."

The screen view split so that both the Romulan and the Ferengi captains could be seen simultaneously. The Ferengi was obviously in near panic. So much so, he could not keep still, jerking and pumping his hands ferociously.

"You maniacs! Don't you see what they are up to? They have failed in their attempts to strike a bargain with the Kronatina and are looking for an excuse to destroy them! They will undoubtedly 'accidentally' fire on you and destroy you and then where will we be? Fire on them now before they do it to you!"

Picard lowered his head and growled at the two images on the screen. "None of us will be firing on anyone! Captain Lareth, I want your assurance that you will make no aggressive move under any circumstances. This is not Romulan Territory; it is Kron space. We are here at their invitation and you are here under the sufferance of a trial 'freedom of trade' agreement."

The Romulan's his face flushed darkly, "We have a right to protect Romulan borders."

The Enterprise Captain's face turned to stone. "Not from this side you don't. Any aggression in Kron space will be considered aggression against the Federation." Picard almost turned away as if done but whirled back and hammered his assurance, "And you know it!"

The Romulan glowered a moment and cut the communications link. The screen was now filled with the agitated Ferengi.

"Picard, you're a fool! Not only have you bungled the chance for trade with the Kronatina, but you should have blown that Romulan excrement out of the sky and you didn't! We're helplessly trapped now, no thanks to you. Further, the Kronatina will not answer our hails to them. You have very likely ruined our chances with them as well as your own!"

Picard was nearly at the end of his tolerance. While trying to think of a way to ask patience from these impatient aliens, the Ferengi leader babbled on.

"The Kronatina think we are friends of yours and they have no wish to deal with us. We cannot break orbit for fear the Romulan dogs will fire on us. We are traders, Picard! And what sort of trading can we do now, no thanks to you? You are keeping us from our livelihood!"

Captain Picard tried to generate a smile but it seemed he was all out, at the moment. So all he could do was keep himself from sneering while he said, "We will get back to you. Enterprise, out."

&&&&

As the dancing green-eyed girl in Ten Forward came closer to the tall, dark-haired veterinarian, her face broke into smiles, and still dancing, but to a quicker beat than the music counted, she wriggled towards the stunned woman. When she reached the doctor, she continued dancing, but only for her. Only when D'Jang reached out to the girl's cheek did the happy child stop her gyrations, eagerly grabbing at the hand and nuzzling it, giving it little playful kisses.

Only a few noticed that the girl had stopped dancing, Guinan, behind the bar, among them. She also noticed the look on D'Jang's face, and came up quietly to ask, "Something up, Doc?"

The vet began frisking the girl's ear and lightly rumpling her hair to her apparent delight. Keeping her eyes entirely on the girl she said, much in a fashion one talks when also playing with a puppy, "Oh, yeah. I'd say there's something up. Oh, yes." The girl began playfully batting at D'Jang's hand, hitting it, grabbing it, and putting the fingers in her mouth and sucking on them. "I'm going to take this cute little bundle to the Menagerie. Just as soon as you can, I'd like you to get both of the, uh, husbands and the other girl, all right? I'd like you to bring them, do not send them, bring them to the Menagerie. Okay?"

D'Jang slowly stood up, took both of the girl's hands into both of hers, and looked steadily into the girl's eyes, pacifying her into relaxed stillness. Then, taking the girl's hand in her own right hand and placing her left hand on the back of her head, just above the neck, gently cradling the occipital bulge in her palm, she guided the complacent girl out of Ten Forward.

Ten minutes later, Guinan the two young men and the other rainbow-skinned girl were being ushered into one of the small examining rooms of the Menagerie. Doc D'Jang and the first girl were already there, the girl sitting on the metal exam table. As the door opened, the vet patted the table beside the girl, looked meaningfully at her, and said, "Stay, right here." She turned to greet the four newcomers.

The second girl, on seeing D'Jang, reacted much as her sister had, smiling and grabbing at the vet's outstretched hand, cuddling it to her face. D'Jang led the girl to the table and patting it with her free hand, indicated that the frisking child should get up on it. This, at first, posed a problem in communication since the girl wanted climb up, feet and all. D'Jang had to hold her at the waist, back her against the table, grab under her thigh, lift, and push. Standing back a bit, looking at both girls, one to the other, not turning around she said, "Would you gentlemen take a seat please? Guinan, could you stay for just a moment?"

Guinan had already installed herself into a corner. "I wouldn't miss this explanation for anything."

Staring at the veterinarian's back, one of the men asked, "Ma'am, is there something wrong?"

By this time, Commander T'Shing seemed lost in thought. The girls beamed at her, occasionally making small grabs at her. She tenderly disengaged from them each time, not breaking her gaze from their faces. "I'll talk to you in a moment," she said softly.

Silence reigned for a full two minutes, broken only by the sound of the girls playing patty-cake with the good doctor and the men shifting nervously in their seats. Then, patting the girls on the legs, D'Jang said, "Stay right here." Walking slowly to the end of the table, she turned and gazed at the two men with a look on her face that clearly questioned how to begin. The girls' large, deep green eyes had very small pupils making them seas of a single color in a myriad of colors, which never left D'Jang's face. They hadn't once looked at their husbands. Abruptly D'Jang said, "How did they come to be on board?"

The man who had questioned D'Jang a moment before, answered, "I found them on Brandar, where we last stopped. I was down on an overnight pass in a bar when this guy offered to sell them to me. I was in civvies, so he didn't realize I was a member of Starfleet. Plain and broad as daylight, he was trying to sell them! I called the ship, he was arrested and is being held on Brandar for violation of people's rights. Captain Picard said, after this mission, we'd be taking the girls to the nearest alien displacement center where Federation people would return them to their home planet."

Staring at the men, and apparently not seeing them, making them feel very uncomfortable, D'Jang asked, "Do you know where the man got them?"

"Well, he mentioned a star system name, but we don't know if he was telling the truth."

"Have either one of them spoken since they came on board? Have they said any words?"

"No. They make sounds but nothing that the translator has been able to make any sense out of. Ma'am, please, I don't get it. What do you want with us?"

D'Jang was now staring at the floor, her arms wrapped folded at her waist. "A couple more questions and then I'll answer yours. Have they had free run of the ship?"

"Well, they're at liberty to go anywhere except restricted areas, of course, but they're too shy. I kept checking on them, and almost every time I'd find them at the open door, just standing there, looking out, really cute like. Word about them got around in my section and everybody all began to help them. The girls didn't even know how to work the replicator and they still don't." The man looked lovingly at his bride. "Some of the women began help them, showed them how to clean up and had dresses made and went for walks with them and stuff."

D 'Jang perked up and asked, "Walks? Did they, by any chance, take them to the Arboretum, the Garden Room?"

"Yeah," the man replied. "They just seemed to be able relax there. Two of the women I work with said they'd just take off, disappear into the bushes. Once they were late on their duty shift because they couldn't even find Tameena and Jonina for a couple of hours."

"And you two fell in love with them and got married today?"

Both of the men, oblivious to the fact that neither girl had so much as glanced at them yet, broke into smiles, staring with pride and joy at their new brides. The first man continued to be the spokesperson, "Well, what's not to love? I mean they're both so sweet and quiet. Jonina took to me right off. She just lights up whenever I walk into the room. Tameena seems to feel the same way about Chris here. They're affectionate and seem to want to spend their whole life just pleasing us."

D'Jang looked up and gazed softly at the girls. She smiled gently and held up her hand, palm facing the twins, and said, "Now stay there." Both stayed put though they looked like they would have cheerfully gotten closer to the doctor. Then D'Jang looked critically at the two men. "How did you get them to say yes to your proposal of marriage?"

The two men looked at each other and grinned. The speechless one looked down at his hands in his lap. The other one looked around at the walls and ceiling, smiling as if trying to find words to humor these childish questions. "Well, Ma'am, since they don't talk, they didn't exactly 'say' yes. They just seemed to understand and were so willing to do what we want. They seem to want to be with us all the time. One evening, the four of us were together in my quarters, just relaxing, you know and, I don't know who brought it up…"

Chris bumped him and mumbled, "I did. You thought it was a good idea." He went back to examining his hands.

"Yeah, okay. Anyway, we'd shown the girls how to kiss. Tameena is better at it than Jonina is. Well, we each kissed our girl and asked her to marry us and they both got that wide-eyed, 'I'll do anything you want,' look and we both agreed that that was a yes." The young man looked extremely proud of himself.

D'Jang was back to staring at the men. "So, you set a date, put through all the necessary computer work, set up the works for married quarters, extra pay, all that and here you are."

Both of the men's faces darkened, and Chris said sharply, "You're making it sound like we did something underhanded or something." Both of the girls became alarmed, making inquisitive cooing noises and fluttering their hands. D'Jang walked over and caressed their spiky furred heads, calming them.

"Do you know who I am?" The men looked sharply at D'Jang, their eyes taking in the commander's buttons on the collar and the science blue of the uniform. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Gentlemen, I am the ship's veterinarian, Doctor T'Shing D'Jang. I'm an Intergalactic Veterinarian. Does that tell you anything, yet?" Lack of comprehension veiled their faces. "You know Deanna, the ship's counselor, yes?" Finally, something they knew about. Both men nodded. "You know she's a Sensitive, yes? You know she can read people's emotions, sense how they're feeling about something?" They nodded more vigorously. "I'm also a Sensitive, but of an entirely different sort. Instead of people, I read animals. I'm the one they call when they can't tell if a being is an animal or a sentient." She'd lost them again. But she couldn't help but notice in the background that Guinan's face had changed from curious interest to interested cognizance. D'Jang thought fast, trying to find some easy way to explain this. "Did you know that there are some animals that look like humanoids?"

The man who had done most of the speaking stood up suddenly. "What? Do you think these are animals? No! They're both as human as me. You think just because they got odd colored skin and their hair feels like fur, that they're animals?" He reached out to take Jonina's hand. "C'mon Chris, get Tameena and let's get out of here. This lady's crazy!"

D'Jang quickly stepped between the men and their spouses. The girls had already become alarmed pulling back, lifting their legs up out of harm's way. Speaking quietly, D'Jang said, "Sit down, gentlemen." Ignoring her, each man tried to reach around the matronly figure, trying to reach his respective mate.

Suddenly the room rang, "Sit down, now!" They both reacted so fast that the thumps as their rear ends hit the seats were plainly heard. Realizing the order had come from Guinan, everyone looked at her, but she only shrugged her shoulders and said, "Continue, Doctor, I'm finding this very intriguing."

Looking a little abashed and grateful, D'Jang thanked the dark lady and continued. "Aside from the fact that yes, these pretty things are animals, not sentient beings, there is also the fact that they have no concept of love, that you can in no way build a decent relationship with them. Also, I may very well have saved your lives."

The two men were now trying not to look disrespectful of a senior officer, were trying not to raise their lips in a sneer at the older woman and neither was very good at the attempt. They sat stiffly in their chairs, their eyebrows knotted almost as tightly as their jaw muscles. Their eyes kept darting to their brides and back to the face of the woman they obviously considered to be insane.

Aware of fighting a losing battle the veterinarian waved back a wisp of hair from the side of her face, and spoke on. D'Jang talked fast, now, getting as much information out in as short a time as possible before another outbreak from these lovesick pups. "Their planet," she gestured towards the girls, "was discovered just five years ago, Felshaw IV. It has no sentient population. Your salesman apparently got in before any regulatory agency had a chance to set up perimeters. He saw these lovely creatures, disregarded every animal protection regulation in the book, and picked them up. Aside from the fact that he neglected to mention to you that they're not human, he wasn't breaking any people's rights laws, so when I message the information back to Brandar, he'll likely be set free with a stiff fine as his only sentence.

"Now, let me tell you something about this species; the male isn't nearly so attractive. Where the skin on the female is soft, as you've no doubt found, the skin of the male is more like a grayish green armor. It covers not only the body, but wraps around the face and head in layers," Her hands made descriptive moves as she spoke, "and rather makes him look like a cross between an earth rhinoceros and a boar. He's squat with prominent fangs and two horns like knobs on the side of his head just above the ears. Pretty obvious why only the females were taken. Now, when the two mate, they do it face to face, as humans do, but the female, during coitus, bites, scratches and kicks viciously. As far as has been determined, this natural behavior stimulates the male to ejaculation, and probably also stimulates ovulation for her. The only reason the male survives the sex act is because of the armoring.

"I wonder if you noticed how their teeth are pointed, not flat. Those nails on their fingers that someone has painted so prettily are actually talons that can slice through leather. It's only in coitus that she behaves this way, so you wouldn't have known until too late. Did you know that your pretty little brides so strong that can literally rip the hide off of a living animal? During the sex act, they become even stronger. Your wedding night tonight would have been the last night of your lives." She had bent forward in her effort to communicate. Now she stood up straight and was immediately being caressed and patted by the two female figures behind her. "They make fun pets, but they are not wife material."

The two men in front sat staring at her, unmoving. "Now," she continued, "if you don't mind, I going to take these babies to a place a little more suited to their needs." She saw the look of alarm developing on both men's faces. "Don't worry, it'll look like the nests of their own planet, they'll love it. And then I'll be back and we can talk some more."

She turned and motioned the girls off of the table. She whirled back before the men could move. Smiling humorlessly she said, "Stay seated, please." It was an order. Then, putting each hand behind one of their heads, she gently directed the two girl-like creatures out of the room.

When she returned a few minutes later, both men were sipping a beverage from glasses. It was obvious that Guinan had ordered something from the replicator. D'Jang leaned against the examining table, first folding her arms in front of her, and then opening them to support herself against the table. "Well, how are you doing?"

Chris looked up at her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not so sure I believe you. I'm pretty sure Kilfar doesn't at all." He took another swig of his drink.

D'Jang looked away from the jaundiced glare and shook her head. "Guinan, why is there only one ship's counselor?"

Guinan, who had returned to her corner, didn't reply.

D'Jang said, "Look, uh, Kilfar, Chris, I'm not sure how to convince you of this. You can read what records there are for yourselves if you like. I can't prove that I can sense they're animals, I can only tell you that for me it is as plain to me as the color of their skin is to you. The visual records only show what looks like a rainbow skinned girl in coitus with a man-pig creature and it'll look like she's battling for her life, only when they're done and he lets go, she doesn't run away, she hangs around. Twenty minutes later, they wind up together again with her scratching and biting." She paused. "Whether they're animals or no, I've saved your lives today. You wouldn't have survived your marriage bed. Do you believe that?"

The two men, holding empty cups, looked up at D'Jang. Chris just nodded and Kilfar said, "Yeah, okay."

Noting the sudden change in attitude, the vet looked at Guinan.

Guinan said, "I think they've had quite a shock. Would you like to go get some sack time, Chris? Kilfar? You've got time off."

Looking thoughtful, both young men stood up. Kilfar, always the spokesman, said, "I think I'll take some prone think-time on this." Chris just nodded. They put their glasses on the empty examining table and left the room.

Gazing after them, D'Jang raised an eyebrow and asked, "What was in the cups?"

Guinan came out of her corner and picked up the containers. "Did you know that there is a rather harmless combination of herbs found on a planet, the name of which I cannot remember right now, that helps calm disturbed nerves and makes people mildly open to suggestions? I say harmless, because it can't be overdosed and it has no after or side effects."

"But it has a hypnotic effect. It alters consciousness."

Guinan nodded serenely.

"What are the herbs?"

Guinan's smile broadened a little. "I don't recall, right now."

"How long will it last?"

"They'll get a good night's sleep, and then some, and by that time Deanna will have time to help them sort things out." Guinan turned from the disposal chute.

D'Jang asked, "You use this stuff often?"

Guinan pursed her lips slightly and looked at D'Jang. "I've never used it before, and I may never use it again." Before she left she said, "Which is not to say I don't have other recipes or herbs that I use on occasion for various non-medical ailments."

"Like catnip tea?"

"Among others. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go have a conference with a wedding party."

"What are you going to say?"

"I wish I knew."

"I'll go out with you. While I was hustling my new charges into their quarters, I got a call from Beverly. She wants me in Sick Bay."

"Did she say what it was about?"

"I was too busy with those cubs to inqu—Yellow Alert? Is this a drill? I thought this was a peaceful mission?"

Guinan looked at D'Jang out of the corners of her eyes.

"You mean you just noticed? We've been on Yellow Alert since before you came into Ten Forward. And it's not a drill. I'd also say that a Yellow Alert on a peaceful mission is just about par for this trip. So far as I've been able to determine, nothing is what it has seemed to be."

TBC to Chapter 18

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	18. Back Among the Living

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Riker recovers.

Chapter 18

When Beverly had called to see when Dr. T'Shing could examine the hat, she'd received a rather terse answer, which puzzled her. The distracted voice said she'd come as soon as she could but could not promise when. So, more out of curiosity than anything, the doctor decided to run her own diagnostic of the thing on her table. As she expected, the physiology was so alien she couldn't distinguish cardiovascular from digestive, or even determine if it had a central nervous system. Fluids moved, there was a temperature, evidence of life, but beyond that, the information was meaningless.

Pondering whether she should go any further with the exam, she heard Riker stirring and she moved quickly over to his couch. As she punched up the latest information, what she saw made her smile, so she settled back to wait for him to naturally come to consciousness. To the nurse and the orderly who were standing by, she said quietly, "I think things are under control now. You can return to your previous duties."

The young man left and the nurse picked up the computer notepad she'd been working with before Riker had entered, and turned to the display she'd been studying.

Looking at Riker, Beverly noticed his eyes were open and trying to focus. "Welcome back, sleepy head." Picking up his hand, she gave it a brief squeeze.

"Well, what happened this time?" His answer indicated that he was aware enough to know that this was just one of many times he'd awakened in Sick Bay, a doctor hovering by.

"You were very ill," replied Dr. Crusher. "You passed out just as you came into Sick Bay." She decided not to mention his making a pass at the nurse just yet. "Do you remember anything about the hat?"

"Hmmm, right now, I'm not sure of my own name. That must have been some bug." He made an effort to get up, and, this time, Dr. Crusher didn't stop him.

"Yes, it was some bug. We were worried about you for a while. Okay, so what is your name?" she asked.

As he sat up, he formally replied, "Riker, William T., Commander, Federation Starfleet." He smiled at his doctor, his friend, reassuring her with his eyes. "Ah, that's better. My head is beginning to clear."

She stood in front of her patient more to prevent his getting off the table and leaving than to get his attention. "Now, what can you tell me about the experience of wearing it? Did you know you were acting a little... peculiarly for a while? Before passing out, I mean."

Riker thought for a second and then his eyes gazed at the doctor, opening wide. His embarrassment made his mouth go slack. "Oh, Beverly, I owe you an apology!" He seemed to remember more and looked first at the door through which he'd entered and then he caught sight of the young nurse in much the same pose of study as when he'd first seen her. He raised his voice to catch her attention, "Ensign, I believe I owe you an apology."

She looked up, blushed, and smiled. Then she shook her head and waved her hand to indicate that she was passing it off as inconsequential and went back to studying the wall. Will continued to look at her for a few more seconds, his face thoughtful, worried.

Taking hold of Will's jaw, Beverly pushed his head to one side so she could look at the welt, about half an inch wide, that ran around his hairline, and gently touched it with her finger. Riker winced and tried not hiss in pain but only managed to cut off half of the intake of breath. Still holding her patient gently, Dr. Crusher retrieved an instrument and aimed it at the welt. As it twinkled and twittered, she slowly worked it along the perimeter of the dark hairline. "Will, do you recall why you acted the way you did?" Will tried to shake his head, but Beverly firmly and held his head still while she sharply inhaled in frustration. "Talk, don't move. I'm almost tempted to have you put that thing back on to see just what was going on."

Riker frowned, but didn't move; only saying, "Beverly, I recognize 'what' I did, that it even seemed like a good idea at the time. Why I did it, I can't say. I felt like I was reacting to clear 'go' signals, from you, from her," he nodded at the ensign, "from—" his discretion ended the explanation.

Finished, Dr. Crusher put the healing tool away and looked again at her handiwork. She seemed satisfied at the decreased redness. Then she turned to the table where the hat remained. She reached into one of the shallow drawers of the medical cabinet beside her and pulled out a pair of nearly transparent gloves. Donning the gloves, which seemed to disappear as soon as they were on, she approached the creature. Using a quick motion, she flipped it onto its side.

Riker, watching her, still weak and disoriented, reached out. "Be careful! Don't break it." He nearly tumbled off the table.

She returned to him, helping him to regain his balance. "Will, I'm more worried about it breaking me!" She looked back to the hat, which was still on its side unable, or unwilling, to right itself. Then she looked at Riker as if remembering something. "That hat you were wearing had cilia that penetrated into your skin and transmitted a virus. Did you know that thing is alive? That it's a living creature?"

Reaching up to gingerly touch the now healing welt line he answered, "Alive? You mean I was wearing a live animal as a hat?"

Beverly nodded, "Some party favor, hmm?" She returned to the table where the creature still lay. She bent over and peered into the inner curve. "Doc D'Jang is supposed to come and get it to give it an exam but she said she might be a while, and I'm awfully curious about it." She reached in a finger and tried poking gently. "All I can see is a lining of what looks like down. The cilia seem to have been withdrawn. You know, not only did it give you a dose of disease, I'm fairly certain it was influencing your behavior. Either that or it was the virus that had you acting that way, but I just don't think it was."

"Did you tell the Captain about this? Is he all right down there?"

Seeing that Will was about to get off the table, the doctor returned to her patient. This ritual of protest from senior officers and having to stop them physically from escaping from her healing duties was often frustrating. "Yes, he knows. Yes, he's all right. He's back on board and," she pushed Will back onto the table, "no, I don't want you to leave just yet. I still need to go over something. I just wanted you to be fully awake before I did..." Beverly broke off because Doc D'Jang entered Sick Bay.

The Veterinarian paused at the sight of Riker sitting on an exam table. The look on her face proving she was still wary of this man.

"It's okay, D'Jang. He's been defused," said Beverly.

Riker grinned sheepishly the veterinarian. "Apologies?"

"Depends on what Dr. Crusher says. Is he what you need help with? How do you want him sliced?"

Not in the mood or with the time to joke, Dr. Crusher pointed to the other table. "There's your patient."

Looking at the overturned hat and looking back at Riker and then Crusher, D'Jang acted uncertain. "You want me to examine a hat? Sorry, Beverly, I—"

"The computer says it's alive." Dr. Crusher's attitude was not to be interpreted as anything but serious.

D'Jang, still perplexed by what she was hearing, approached the table, advancing until she stood next to it, her head cocked slightly to one side. Finally, she reached out to the feathers, set the thing upright, and laid both hands onto the sides of the carapace.

After about ten seconds, she looked quisitively over her shoulder at her two observers. "It has the life force of a chrysalis right now. I'm not getting a thing from it, no feelings, barely even a sense of life. Whether it's in shock or whether this is a normal condition, I don't know. I'll have to take it to my lab and do some tests. Is that all right with you?" She picked it up.

Beverly nodded. "Be sure and run some communicable disease tests while you're at it. Will is just recovering from a virus that the thing injected into him. It has cilia that came out from just under the inside edge. They attached themselves to neurons."

Where D'Jang had been holding the creature quite closely to her body, she suddenly stretched out her arms. "Whoa! Guess I don't want to cuddle with it then, do I?" She looked at the feathers critically. "Anything else I should know?"

"I don't think so. I was hoping you'd fill us in." Beverly looked perplexed at D'Jang. "I thought you could read animals? Are you not getting through to this one?"

Commander T'Shing smiled at the doctor. "The computer says it's alive, the evidence points to its being alive," she looked down at the array of feathers, "but a live what? This thing could be a fungus for all I'm getting. I've got some equipment in the menagerie that'll provide more information. Any hurry?"

Beverly nodded. "Captain Picard is waiting as we speak."

Doc D'Jang made a hasty exit, muttering to anyone who cared to listen, "Cure it now, analyze it yesterday, pull miracles out of the air, but make sure you hurry. Nobody—" the door whispered shut behind her.

"Speaking of the Captain, I'd better tell him you're awake." Beverly tapped her communicator with one hand and braced her other hand against Riker's shoulder at the same time. "Stay where you are Commander. Captain Picard?"

The captain's voice was neither alive with authority nor was it tense with a situation at hand, rather it was the voice he used when he was being called out of deep thought. "Yes, Dr. Crusher?"

"Commander Riker is awake and seems nearly normal."

Riker spoke up. "And feeling fit for duty, sir. I'm being held captive by an overzealous medic."

"Captain, I'm not going to let him go until I run one more test on his nervous system. Commander Riker was under some sort of neural influence. Whenever a person's nervous system is affected in any way, whether it's electrically, chemically or physically, there are often aftereffects and sometimes even damage. I can't allow Will to return to duty until I've verified that he's not altered in any way."

"Number One, I would value your assistance on the bridge but not until you are declared fit for duty. Dr. Crusher, I'd appreciate all due haste on these tests. Keep me informed. Picard out."

Both Riker and Crusher looked at each other. Riker's face said he felt more needed on the bridge than any need for a declaration of good health. Crusher's face said that Riker staying put, no matter how badly the situation on the bridge may be going. Both knew that if Picard's brusqueness was any measure, the situation up there was serious.

Reading Riker's face, Beverly added, "The quicker you lie down and let me run these tests the quicker I can tell if I can let you go."

"Well," he said as he lay back on the couch, "At least fill me in on the situation. What's been going on?"

TBC to Chapter 19

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	19. Hoping for the Best

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Picard regroups

Chapter 19

'_How had a simple diplomatic mission become a matter of deceit and threatened aggression?_' Picard sat in the bridge command chair, his legs crossed, one hand at ease on an armrest, the other, propped by an elbow on the other armrest, resting against his mouth as if to caution against hasty judgment. '_We welcomed them aboard our ship in good faith. Then they presented us with a gift, only it wasn't a gift, it was an ambassador, which, attacked my first officer._'

Picard shifted his position so that one arm was akimbo, grasping the armrest, and the other was supporting his chin. '_We were naturally concerned. Concerned, hell! Alarmed!_' Picard remembered his insistence to Riker that he follow the dictates of the Kronatina. '_Do the tarantella indeed._' So, he, Picard, had expressed concern over the health of his first officer to the Kronatina and suddenly they became the injured party! '_No information as to how to get the damned thing from Riker's head, just cries of distress that their fellow was being harmed and demands that they be allowed to retrieve it. Let them infect my ship? Hardly. And then they called the gendarmes!_ _Well, one could hardly blame them, I suppose._'

"Sir," Worf's voice vibrated through Picard's reverie. "We have not yet received any answer to our continuous hail to the planet. Shall I continue?"

"Yes, Mr. Worf. I don't believe they'll answer, but I'd like to keep reminding them that we're keeping the door of communication open, in any case." Picard's voice was distant.

"Yes sir."

'_And what_,' Picard continued thinking, as he was mulling over the recent events, '_had the dismissal of the Romulans to do with the situation, if anything? Hmmm, interesting that the Romulans had refused to wear the hat and were summarily dismissed. Was that in the Romulan plans in the first place? To find a threat in order to attack them? More likely, to take them under the Romulan regime_.'

A small rueful smile hinted at Picard's lips. '_It probably appears to the Kronatina as if we brought the Romulans._'

_And the Ferengi! Those everlasting pains!_' Picard glanced quickly about the bridge to be sure Counselor Troi had not entered yet. '_Some diplomat I am with such undiplomatic views of those opportunistic little traders._' Picard sighed lightly. '_The way things are going, with us and the Romulans at each other's throats , the Ferengi could just sidestep us and make off with whatever spoils take their fancy.' _

Picard huffed to himself. '_All right. This is all very well, JeanLuc. The situation is as it is, get on with the next step._'

The light twitter from his com' badge forewarned of the voice, "Captain Picard? Doc D'Jang here. I've got some news."

"About our ambassador from Kron? What have you gleaned?"

"It's sick."

"Ill? From what? How sick is it?" Picard rose from the command chair.

"I ran a blood test to see if I could find any other nasties that could possibly infect us humans. Not only did I find a few that I'm going to pass on to Dr. Crusher, but I also found an inordinate amount of a human type of a virus in there. While it was giving Riker a dose, Riker unwittingly handed it blow for blow. The creature's internal systems are putting up a fight, but it's not winning."

"What sort of a virus?"

"Actually it's a minor strain of rubella, to which I believe most of you humans are now immune. We all carry a variety of bugs that our systems have become immune to, but given to unprotected systems, there is no immunity. I've given the problem to the computer to come up with some sort of vaccine that'll kill the bug and yet not injure the creature. It may take a while. I just wanted to let you know."

"Have you been able to find out anything about the crea—ambassador? What have your special talents been able to divine?"

There was a slight pause before D'Jang answered. "Captain, I'm getting about as much from this thing as I'd get from a bug. I can sense it's alive, but beyond that, the computer is able to provide more details than I can. I mean, it's an animal, not a plant, a female, but it took the computer to figure it out, not me. I think this thing is in a coma."

"A female, you say?"

"Yes Captain."

"Seriously ill?"

"I don't know. I'm guessing so, yes."

"I understand. Please keep me posted as to any progress."

"I will. D'Jang out."

Picard's shoulders slumped. '_Great! We come here speaking peace and wind up trying to kill their ambassador. That's how I'll appear. And it's female. Odd, I could have sworn A's'kahn'a referred to S's'haht'a in male terms_.'

The communications twitter sounded again. "Captain Picard, Lieutenant Bundawba here."

'_Bundawba! I'd forgotten'!_ "Lieutenant! I have some interesting news."

"Sir?"

"Yes, the mystery of the mistranslation of the hat has been solved. We've just discovered that their hat is actually alive. They referred to it as an entity because it is. Apparently I had sent you on a wild goose chase."

"Wild goose chase?" returned Bundawba.

"An ancient Earth term meaning I sent you in search of something you were not likely to find; in this case, a correct reference."

There was an audible sigh. "Well, I guess I'll pack my little black bag of tools and return to my duties." The disappointment was apparent in the sound of the young man's voice.

"Not quite yet, Lieutenant. I believe there is still a problem. Please check for pronoun gender use. The Kronatina have referred to our guest in male terms but we have discovered it's a female."

The voice sounded skeptical. "Okaysir, I'll get right on it."

"By the way, Lieutenant," called out Picard.

"Sir?"

"I do recognize the fact that you were right and I intend that mention of your insight will become part of your permanent record."

"About what, sir?" came the answer.

"You pointed to the possibility that there might be something about the Kronatina that we didn't know anything about. I think if I had paid more attention to your words, we might not be on Yellow Alert right now. You were very astute."

"Thank you, sir."

Picard could practically hear the material of Bundawba's shirt stretching across his proudly expanding chest. "Carry on, Lieutenant. Picard out."

The Enterprise captain sat back in his chair to consider his next move. He decided that, until either the Kronatina answered the hails, or the Kronatin creature in the sick bay improved in health, if all went well, there was not much he could do in regards to the mission. He'd reviewed the situation from his standpoint to his satisfaction, and that left but one course—

The turbolift doors on the bridge landing breathed open to reveal Commander Riker and Doctor Crusher. "Captain Picard, I have escaped!"

"And I came along to assure you that Commander Riker is quite fit to resume duty." Dr. Crusher's eyes glinted warmly.

Picard was more than glad to see his first officer. "Welcome back to the bridge, Number One. You're just in time. I was about to call a conference." He swung around and headed up the right ramp of the bridge. "Dr. Crusher, Data, Worf, please come with me to the Observation Lounge. Mr. Worf would you please call Lieutenant Commander LaForge to join us? Computer, is Counselor Troi in closed conference at this moment?"

The impersonal feminine voice answered, 'Counselor Deanna Troi is not in closed conference.'

"Contact Counselor Troi." Picard spoke as he exited through the doors at the top of the bridge.

Deanna's answer sounded hushed even though the computer was amplifying her voice.

&&&&

When Deanna had returned along with the Away Team she had gone to her quarters to check her messages, as always. Each morning, when she woke, there were always numerous messages, and in the evening, no matter how many people she'd seen in the day, there were more. Only the command staff had direct access to her through the computer. All others had to leave messages.

Among the several left for her in her five-hour absence on Kron, she found two that were very intriguing. One was from D'Jang and the other was from Guinan. Both were about the two young men who would need her guidance and help when they woke. Both messages spoke of the 'brides' that were now in the Menagerie. Neither had mentioned just why the distraught young men were asleep.

She'd quickly gone to the men's quarters expecting to find them awake and in very bad condition. When no one had answered her ringing inquiry at the door, she had gained access by calling for emergency command override. Inside she found the lights dim and sure enough, the two men, still in their engineer gold uniforms, were asleep in their bunks, apparently having pleasant dreams, if the slack smiles on both their faces were any indication. She'd just ascertained that their breathing was normal and that their positions of repose indicated natural sleep, not drug induced unconsciousness, when Picard's voice reached her. "Deanna here," she answered quietly, afraid of disturbing them.

"Counselor, will you please come to the Observation Lounge for a command conference?"

She kept her answer just above a whisper. "I'll be right there, Captain." Knowing that sleep was a far better restorative than her counseling, she left as quietly as she'd entered.

TBC to Chapter 20

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	20. What, Not Why

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: The debriefing

Chapter 20

"—and until they answer, or until the creature comes out of its coma, we're at a standstill." Picard spoke quietly, gazing about at the many-hued faces sitting at the large table. "And now, I'd like to have a report from you, Commander Riker. What was going on with you while you had that," the pause was obvous, "ambassador on your head? I'd like to hear as much as you can remember from the moment you put it—her on." He gestured around the table. "And please, feel free, any of you, to ask questions if you think you observed something he's leaving out." Picard leaned into the high backed chair, trying not to give in to the weariness he felt. It had been a long day and promised to be endless.

Riker relaxed as his eyes located a spot in the air just above and to the right of Captain Picard's head. "I didn't start the association with a good attitude, that's for sure. Maybe I made the thing mad and it just got even with me. When I entered my quarters, I wasn't in the mood to wear a hat, but you'd made yourself quite clear, sir, and I knew there was no getting around it.

"I remember grabbing it and holding it upside down by the edges, looking into the insides, trying not to look at the flow of ridiculous feathers, flopping down onto the floor. I think I even shook it trying to get up the courage to actually put it on my head." Will leaned to one side, his thumb and forefinger gently smoothing his close-cropped beard.

"When I finally did, I wasn't gentle about it. At first, it felt loose, and looking in the mirror, sure enough, it had slipped to one side." He ducked his head and looked up through his brows. "I looked ridiculous and I slapped at it, trying to get it straight. Then I pushed at the ridged front, pressing it against my forehead, which seemed to make it stick. I fooled around with it for a while longer and finally got it so it fit all around. I didn't even think about why it was too big one minute and a good fit the next, didn't realize it was sticking itself to my head."

As if to explain to himself, he said, "I don't know how anyone else feels about formal dress, but whenever I've had to wear any, I think I look silly, and at the same time, I also feel good about doing it. You know, that 'I'm a good boy for following the rules,' feeling. Looking at myself in the mirror under all those feathers, I began having the same thoughts. I looked ridiculous, yet I began to feel good, and started to admire myself." Riker paused, looking at the middle of the table, frowning slightly, before he continued. "Then, of all things, I began taking off my uniform, posing from time to time in front of the mirror as if to see what my body looked like. Then I did some things men don't usually talk about."

Riker remained in his pose of study, while the other men in the room, Picard, Worf and LaForge, all unconsciously switched their gaze to either the view ports, to the stars, or to the far corner of the room. Troi and Crusher, on the other hand, intensified their attention. Only Data remained as attentive as ever.

Feeling the mood in the room change, Riker looked around quickly and added, "Oh, nothing unmentionable, just silly stuff." He went back to staring at the center of the table. "After I removed my clothes, I did some floor exercises; pushups, deep knee bends, even jogged in place. You know, things to pump up the muscles. Then, I began climbing up on the furniture. Once I even squatted in the middle of the card table. I lowered the lights, too. I remember thinking how bright, or rather, 'feeling' the brightness in the room." He paused again and gathered his thoughts, his eyes straying to the point above and to the right of Picard's head.

"I have no idea how long I went through this routine, but suddenly I thought of Doc D'Jang. I remembered she had mentioned that she wanted a feather from the hat and suddenly, I wanted to have sex with her!" The revelation seemed to take even Riker by surprise, and he continued as if musing over an interesting discovery. "I didn't want to make love to her, I wanted to have sex with her. I called her immediately and, without being entirely truthful, invited her to my quarters.

"At least I can say I greeted her in a robe, not naked," Will smoothed and resmoothed his beard, and took a deep breath, "but I did nearly jump her as soon as she came in. There she was, all ready for sex, I was certain of it. I moved close to her, but she backed away, and I remember that seemed unexpected. I don't remember what was said, but the next thing I knew, she'd put up her hand and said, 'No!' which was confusing. Here she was, ready for sex, and yet she was holding her hand up and saying no. I couldn't move! It was as if she was holding a gun to my head. I wanted her in the worst way, felt a drive to have her, but I couldn't do it. I'm bigger, stronger, could have forced her, and yet I couldn't; she'd said 'no'. The next thing I knew, she'd left.

"Now the strange thing was, once she was gone, I wasn't upset or angry; I just started thinking of other things." He smiled slightly. "I wasn't even aroused, the incident was over and forgotten.

"The next thing I remember clearly, I was being called to the bridge. I put my uniform on and left my quarters."

Riker swiveled his chair to look straight at Worf. "Worf, you showed remarkable restraint there on the bridge. What was I thinking of standing in front of you? You were in my place, in front of the command chair, and you knew you weren't supposed to be there when I was on the bridge."

Worf listened passively to the analysis.

"I was absolutely sure I had to intimidate you, stare you down, make you move by sheer force of my superiority, show everyone watching on that bridge who was boss." Riker's voice had no rancor, no edge. Even if he hadn't been wearing that slight boyish grin, no one would have thought his tone to be anything but analytical. "I was lucky you're so thoroughly trained in Starfleet."

Worf's eyes remained fixed on Riker's face, his own visage passive. A warrior's internal struggles are his own, no one else's.

"Captain, I wasn't nearly as pleased to be talking with you at that moment as I was to be talking with the Kronatina. It was an odd feeling, too. It felt like old home week, and it also felt like I needed to talk and couldn't, like there was a communications barrier. Funny feeling."

Riker reflected a moment in silence. "Now why did I want to take the Enterprise out of orbit?"

Picard stirred from his listening pose with a start. He looked from Riker, who was ruminating, to LaForge, who was looking amazed, to passive Worf, to even more passive Data. He decided to wait to hear how this next episode went.

"All I really remember is listening to Ensign Ro's answers when I asked her how long it would take get to Zrrakita IV at different warp speeds. The next thing I knew, I'd ordered her to plot a course and the whole bridge crew yelling that we couldn't."

Picard could not keep his silence. "You were just going to leave? Did you even plan to say farewell to those of us left on the planet?"

"Oh, we were going to come right back, I'm sure." Riker tried to answer innocently while he mentally reviewed the Federation penalties for hijacking the Federation flag ship, abandoning a commanding officer, leaving friendlies (if the Ferengi could be called that) open to hostile aggression and so on. "Come to think of it, how did I know the name of the other Kron system? I don't recall being briefed on it?"

Dr. Crusher rolled her eyes as she speculated aloud. "I wonder if that creature's owner had a special interest in the planet? Maybe it had heard the name over and over. Do you think it could pass information directly through the nerve channels maybe? Sort of like a telepathic parrot?"

Riker shook his head inconsternation. He went on, wanting to get through this debriefing, to be done with it. "Data, you actually did me a good turn by suggesting that perhaps I was ill and should report to sick bay."

Data twitched his head ininterest but said nothing.

"It gave me an excuse to call Beverly, besides just asking her to wear the hat. I knew she wouldn't be wild about that idea, but would be unable to resist a sick call."

Crusher interjected, "As I recall, Will, you mentioned neither illness nor the hat but merely asked me to come to your quarters. That's why I didn't think to hurry and took an hour to finish my errands."

"Your delay was fine with me; I went on a tour of the ship. I don't remember much of it; the fever must have been starting by that time. I know I stopped by engineering." He looked at Geordi. "You and another crewman were talking to the captain, right? I recall a feeling of being highly entertained because one of you said something humorous, but I don't remember what it was, now. Then I left." The face of the commander suddenly took on a look of alarm. "Uh-oh." His eyes fell on Captain Picard.

"What isit, Number One?"

"I went to the battle bridge!"

Picard's mind carefully picked over what Riker could have done inhis peculiar state of mind in the seldom-used portion of the ship. He came to the conclusion that any mischief would have shown up long before now. After the one and a half seconds it took for Picard to perform this process he said, "And?"

"Believe it or not, I think I had the intention of overriding command and taking us hell-bent-for-leather to Zrrakita. I mean, I thought about it and yet, once I entered the room, I knew I wouldn't. Then," Riker paused and snapped his fingers, "that's what I did! I called up information on every piece of armament the Enterprise carries!" He looked at Dr. Crusher and Counselor Troi. "Now why did I do that?"

Beverly shook her head but Deanna said, "Continue with the debriefing. You remembered this much, perhaps you'll remember the motive for your actions, or one of us may hear a pattern."

Picard nodded, "Yes, by all means. Did you do anything else on the battle bridge?"

Riker's eyes wandered as he tried to track his movements. "No, when I ended the scan, I left. I think I stopped off at the gym and watched someone working the weight machines, went to the school area and saw some kids playing, went to Ten Forward." He shook his head slightly. "I think I intimidated the hell out of a couple of odd looking women, but it all seems a little dream like."

Deanna asked, "What did the girls look like, do you remember?"

"That's why I'm not sure it happened. It seems like they were splotchy and had long bristles on their heads. They were... not supposed to be there." One of Riker's eyebrows lifted in suspicion of the odd memory. He waved it off and went on. "When I left, I think I met up with a woman crew member, a dark room, but I can't... All I remember is a uniform, but not the department, and dark eyes." He frowned slightly. "Come to think of it, I can't remember colors! Those girls in Ten Forward were tones of grey but so was everything else that I remember." He heaved a deep breath and continued.

"When I returned to my quarters, all I could think of was to get out of my clothes. I barely had time to put on a robe when you came by, Beverly." Riker bent his head and scratched at the back of his head. "For the record, though I hardly remember it, and I'm embarrassed to say it, I made overt sexual overtures to Dr. Beverly Crusher." He raised his blue eyes in wordless apology.

The doctor's head bowed slightly, her pale skin blushing, her sensitive features changing from smiling forgiveness to flashing anger at the outrageous behavior to puzzled anxiety about her friend's behavior.

Will continued, "It was the same feeling as with D'Jang. Beverly, you were sexually receptive and I was willing, eager to oblige." He looked fondly at her. "But, good doctor and courageous woman that she is, she took more notice of my illness than my behavior, and before exiting, ordered me to sick bay.

"Now, I have to admit that I thought you were just playing a game with me. You know, sort of stating where we would have the sex. That's why I got dressed and followed as quickly as I did. When I saw the nurse as I entered sick bay, I just naturally gravitated towards her because she was closer." Commander Riker sat back, contemplating his inexplicable actions, not noticing that the others were waiting for the next line of the story.

Dr. Crusher did notice and added, "When he entered sick bay, he made a pass at one of my medtechs. Before the poor girl could figure out what was going on, he passed out from the fever. By the time he was recovering, we had the hat off and the effects of it were wearing off."

A moment of silence passed while each person at the table digested the information.

Picard spoke first. "While you were on the battle bridge, did you investigate any other privileged information besides weaponry? Anything about any Starfleet vessels? Did you look up anything about propulsion?"

Riker examined his recent past and shook his head. "Not that I can recall, sir."

"The reason I ask is that the notion that Beverly brought up about the thing being a telepathic parrot is sticking in my mind. Was it sent as some sort of spy, trained to urge you to look up information that it could parrot back to the Kronatina? Was this preplanned by them?" He was free-forming ideas, and he knew it. He looked about the table for reactions.

Deanna shook her head, her long curly hair bouncing in unison. "I don't think so, sir. Not once, not while they were on board, or while we were with them on the planet, did I ever sense any surreptitious or covert feelings. Fear of discovery is a distinct emotion and I never sensed that. When you announced your plan to remove S's'haht'a from Commander Riker's head there was only the sort of fear that's more like deep concern for a friend in danger."

Worf was sitting across the table from Deanna. "Sir, until we've determined the motives for putting this creature among us, I believe we should hold it as hostage. Their concern is centered around the thing and, as such, can be used as leverage."

As usual, Deanna felt there was more than a table dividing her from Worf. "Hold it as a hostage? That would only escalate the situation. Sir, I think this is more likely a great misunderstanding."

Though he could only lean forward as far as the table would allow, Picard metaphorically put himself between the dove and the hawk. "I don't intend to do anything until I have more information either from the crea— S's'haht'a, or from his— her companions on Kron. I do appreciate your input, both of you." He leaned back. "Now, I'd like to hear from you, Geordi. Any comments on the situation?"

The gold VISOR glinted warmly in the surrounding light. "Well, it sounds like the thing had a pretty powerful influence on Commander Riker. I mean, notwithstanding your behavior with the women and with Worf, I think it would take more than a little persuading to get you to take the Enterprise out of orbit and leave the away team. There's nothing wrong down in Engineering so you didn't do anything in that line."

"Data," called Picard, "Do you have any comment?"

"Actually Captain, I do not. It seems to me that this is a matter of relationships. There was a relationship between S's'haht'a and Commander Riker which no one seems to be able to understand. There is a relationship that seems to be deteriorating between yourself and the Kronatina. Then there is the relationship between S's'haht'a and the rest of the Kronatina, which, again, no one seems to understand. I am not qualified to comment on relationships, yet. However," he went on, "I have made an observation that has led to a speculation, if I may."

Picard gestured that the way was open and added, "By all means."

"The Kronatina seem to value these animals a great deal. I note that they have often referred to the one we have with us on board by a name, S's'haht'a. My speculation is that these creatures, as you have called them, may possibly be pets."

Worf looked down the table at the golden-skinned figure. "Pets?"

"Yes, Worf. I have a cat that I value very much. I have even named my cat, Spot."

"Yes," urged Picard, "We're familiar with your pet, Data, and you may have a valid point. I hadn't thought of the matter in quite that way."

"It may explain the Kronatin attachment to them."

"Thank you, Data." He turned to the willowy redheaded medical doctor. "Dr. Crusher?"

Her sky blue eyes seemed to cast about for some information as her long, tapered fingers fluttered ever so slightly. "Other than to report that Will is medically unimpaired from the trauma of the disease, as well as from the enforced nerve contact, I have nothing to say."

"Thank you, Beverly. I'm glad to hear that my Number One isfit. Speaking of his fitness, Deanna, would you say Will isalso emotionally fit, considering his behavior of the past few hours?"

Deanna's dark eyes turned towards one of her favorite views. Her mouth tried not to show the tenderness she felt for this man. She narrowed her eyes, as if suspicious of some latent dangers lurking in the recesses of his feelings. Only after he almost squirmed under the scrutiny did she answer, "He's fine, sir." Then she turned to face the general table. "I would like to make some comments on his debriefing though. I found his words to be quite revealing."

"Oh?" questioned Picard.

"I can't come to any conclusions because I wasn't there to observe for myself, but I'm struck by several of Will's comments. For one, anytime he actually thought about a woman, he became sexually interested. He also said he 'knew' they were in a sexually receptive state. Now, one of the facts of nature is that human females are always in a sexually receptive state. They don't go through estrus, a rather brief period of sexual receptivity, which the male animal finds totally irresistible. Sentient males ordinarily find this constant receptivity to be very interesting, but generally resistible for rather obvious reasons, but it seems that Will, under the influence of S's'haht'a, couldn't resist the receptivity. He seemed to be acting in much the same way an animal acts around a sexually receptive animal but was also reacting to the rejection. What gave me the clue was his remark that he needed D'Jang and Beverly to be agreeable to sexual intercourse. No male animal will rape a female, no matter how deeply into estrus she may be. If the female rejects the male, he'll be frustrated, but he won't force copulation.

"Another observation was what you said, Will, about why you seemed to challenge Worf on the bridge. You said you had to show him who was boss; you had to intimidate him, to make him leave the front of the bridge. Again, in the animal kingdom, in any group, there is always an alpha male, the leader. Often, when rejoining the group, a leader will perform an act of intimidation just to display his dominance, to make sure there's no question of who's the boss."

Deanna would have continued, but Riker interrupted. "Just what are you trying to say, Deanna? Did I think I was some sort of animal?"

"I'm not making any conclusions about what your general behavior was or what you thought. You see, you also showed intelligent cognizance of such concepts as understanding the speed of the Enterprise, understanding the idea of a planet around another sun, you got dressed when you knew you were going into the public arena, and none of these are animal behaviors. However, much of what you did was quite reminiscent of very animal-like behavior." Deanna kept trying to include the entire table in on the discussion, but she knew she was also trying hard to reassure Commander Riker. "I just think everything must be taken into consideration."

"Quite right, Counselor," chimed in the Captain. "We're passing no judgments, Number One, just trying to get a sense of things. I've concluded that although the episode with S's'haht'a was unfortunate, it was not wrongly meant. Counselor Troi has not sensed any untoward feelings from the Kronatina, and Will, even though your behavior was inappropriate, especially for a Starfleet officer, you were in no way hostile nor did you actually threaten the ship. The Kronatina are upset at the circumstances, now, but I don't think they can be faulted for that, especially not if Data is at all correct and if S's'haht'a is indeed a pet. I think Will's illness was part of the unfortunate aspects of what happened and was not purposely transmitted. So, are there any objections to continuing to try to contact Kron and renew our talks, meanwhile trying to bring good health back to S's'haht'a?"

Picard looked at his command staff, never knowing what to expect. They remained silent. "No? Well, if you have any further comments, I'll be ready to accept them on the bridge."

The captain rose from his chair. The others followed suit. "Number One, will you please accompany me? The rest of you may resume your duties. And thank you, all."

Deanna slowed her pace so that she was last to exit the lounge. Odd that she'd not been able fully to analyze Will's behavior; this man, whom she knew so intimately, inside and out; this man who, because of circumstances of the here and now, and because of their personal lives in other places and times past, she was not now being intimate with; this man whom she'd had to analyze and define many times, whom she could not quite analyze now. Oh, she'd bluffed in her analysis and had made it sound good. Animal-like behavior, yes, but where did it come from? From where had it come, from inside of this man who was Will, who was a civilized, kind, gentle man?

Deanna sighed, twitched herself out of her reverie, and found herself standing alone in the corridor. Shaking her head at how involved she could get with her own thoughts, she turned now to the new case that would soon need her analysis, the bridegrooms. In order to evaluate the two men, she needed answers, a few of which were sure to be in the Menagerie. She headed to the ship's science section.

TBC to Chapter 21

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	21. The Old Switcheroo

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Picard's version of diplomacy

Chapter 21

As Worf, Riker, and Picard stepped onto the bridge, Picard said, "Lieutenant Worf, open all channels to Kron."

In front of their command seats, he turned to Commander Riker. "I'm going to try a different tact. Perhaps if we tell them that their—fellow Kronatt is ill and may die if they don't advise us, they may have reason to answer."

"Well," said Riker, "At this point I don't think it could hurt. But suppose they think it best to retrieve the thing, tend to it with their own medicines, and tell us to get out of their territory?"

"Ah, that is where we pull a switcheroo."

Riker raised an amused eyebrow at his unpredictable commanding officer. "A what?"

Data, at the ops station turned a fascinated ear without losing his attention at the console.

Picard knew he was getting his second wind on this problem when he started using phrases from his secret passion, the old Earth detective novels. "Or to use more sophisticated terms, reverse our approach in order to gain the advantage."

Data nodded slightly to himself, having checked that his definition of the word in his internal American-Earth Slang Dictionary coincided with the meaning given by Captain Picard.

"All channels open, sir," said Worf.

"Greetings, Oh A's'kahn'a. Your fellow Kronatt, who was in company of Commander Riker here, has fallen ill. Do not be alarmed, however, because we are tending to him with every available medical facility. Please, advise."

Picard turned and told Worf to end the message. "Do not repeat it."

Riker asked, "I notice you didn't give any details, like that the thing is off my head. Was that on purpose?"

"Yes, I—"

Worf interrupted. "The Kronatina are responding, sir. Shall I put it on visual?"

"Yes, Mr. Worf. Now, Number One, we shall have to see what we can do."

The forward view screen was filled with several Kronatina, A's'kahn'a among them. "Are you prepared to—" He paused, obviously taking note of Commander Riker's bareheaded presence. Two other of the diplomats crowded in, their headdresses brushing one against the other. "Where is our fellow?" screamed A's'kahn'a. "What have you done with S's'haht'a?"

"Oh, A's'kahn'a, please, hear me out. As you can see, our Commander Riker has recovered. It was necessary to remove your fellow from him in order to help Commander Riker. To make sure we had not harmed our honored guest, we performed a medical exam on S's'haht'a. That exam determined an illness from a human virus. My medical staff, at this very moment, is working for a cure. We are, however at a loss as to S's'haht'a's physiology. Would you care to advise us?"

Again, their alarm came through the translator clearly. "We must see our fellow! You must allow us to tend to S's'haht'a."

Picard raised his hand in a placating manner. "Please, Oh A's'kahn'a, you could very well be as susceptible to our human virus. You cannot get it from us unless you touch us, but now that one of your fellows has it, you could contract it." The solicitousness in his voice fairly oozed with sweetness. "Once we make up an antibiotic for your friend, we can then be assured that you will be safe from the disease. At the moment, your fellow is receiving the best, most tender care we can devise. We are hoping, praying a swift recovery."

There was some shuffling amongst the group of Kronatina that brought the creatures on their heads briefly together. Finally, A's'kahn'a spoke. "We have fears. S's'haht'a, is not dead?"

"Please, rest assured S's'haht'a is alive." Picard looked, Riker noticed, like the cat that had swallowed the canary, innocently sly, confident of his position.

A's'kahn'a spoke so intently now that he hardly bobbed, "We would very much like to see my friend for ourselves. If you bring S's'haht'a to us, we will not hold your behavior up to now in ill favor."

Picard, practically exuberant, had to work to hide his feelings. "I'm afraid we can't do that." He looked around innocently. "We're currently investigating some rather anomalous behavior that my first officer, Riker here, exhibited while he hosted your friend. You see, I'm afraid we have reason to wonder if your motives for sharing your friend with us were entirely of good will."

The switcheroo had the exact effect Picard had desired. The Kronatt were doing the equivalent of blustering and spluttering. "What?"

Picard continued, "Your fellow's contact with our Commander Riker was not only deleterious to his health, but caused him to behave in a manner that we considered dangerous, not only in regard to other members of my crew, but possibly in regard to the ship itself."

"But how can this be?" came the question.

Picard ignored the remark and relentlessly drove on to his point. "Whether your fellow acted alone or acted under directions, we believe S's'haht'a may have gained access to information we consider to be highly confidential. Not only that, the manner in which Commander Riker was forced to behave, and the manner in which the information was gained, was by forcible telepathic control, which we consider to be reprehensible in the extreme!" Picard stopped and waited. In a maneuver such as this, innocent confidence was the key to a successful outcome.

A's'kahn'a seemed to be distracted by some bit of detritus on his chest. He brushed at his pelt and then scratched. Suddenly he started bobbing about and spoke, "Oh, Picard of the Federation, I hear your words and I am much concerned. We are all concerned. I am concerned for my friend, we are concerned for our fellow. You have accused S's'haht'a of a wrong, but you say you are giving care? You say you do not wish to expose us to the illness. I think that we, you, Oh Picard, and I, must talk. Is this not so?"

Picard's voice softened as he answered, "I think you understand. Our first concern, however, no matter what harm your fellow may have done, is to help. Would it be possible for our," Picard decided to veil the truth just a bit, in case they didn't consider their animals in the same light as humans did, "doctor, who is tending S's'haht'a, to speak with your physicians?"

A's'kahn'a turned away from the screen and began gesturing wildly, waving his grey furred arms up, down and about, waggling his hands. Apparently satisfied with something, he turned and addressed the screen, "We are calling our finest doctors available. They will come soon. Will your doctor bring S's'haht'a to this screen?"

Reality came up and caught Picard, but his quick, decisive mind leaped ahead with delight. "Oh! No, we'd like to reserve the device you are now using for furthering our own communications with you, personally. Ah, I have an idea." Picard hoped he was sounding inspired rather than conspiring, "We can transport down with another communication device, such as the one you are using now. Bring your medical people into the hall where we first met and we can set up a link with the, uh, doctor who is tending to our honored guest. They can confer with her, see that S's'haht'a is alive, and they can all join forces to bring him back to the same, uh, robust health before visiting us. May we do that?"

Again, they all shuffled and bowed together in the way that brought their carapaces in contact with the each other. Done with the ritual, A's'kahn'a spoke, as usual. "We would be grateful."

Picard's face relaxed in smiles, his chest began to expand. "We'll arrive shortly, then."

Communications were cut and Riker turned to Captain Picard, admiration evident on his face. "Nicely done, Captain. What'll you tell them when they ask why they couldn't use the com' unit they already have?"

"I just hope they're acquainted with the phrase about 'not looking a gift horse in the mouth'. It was the only thing I could think of to get us down there and talking face to face, again." He shrugged his shoulders.

"All right," Picard continued as he slapped his hands together and rubbed, "Let's get this back on track. Will, please contact Geordi and have him get one of the communications units ready for transport. I want it rigged so that it'll only link to the Menagerie, nowhere else, no matter who operates it. I'll meet him in the Transport Room in no less than fifteen minutes. Then arrange for the same Away Team as before."

"Aye, Sir," acknowledged Riker and went into the captain's ready room.

Picard turned. "Mr. Worf, hail the Ferengi vessel."

"They have just now contacted us, Sir."

"On screen." Picard was more than ready for them, now.

Not as upset as before, but not quite calm either, the face of Daimon Tar An came into view. "We notice you have managed to re-establish contact for yourself, but did not mention us. What nefarious purpose was there in that?"

Picard displayed his best used-car-dealer smile. "I was just about to contact you. As soon as we have them calmed down to where we can even resume our diplomatic negotiations, we'll be most pleased to introduce you. Since we leave our communications open for the sake of translation, you can listen in if you wish assurances." Picard wondered if the Daimon caught the unveiled barb.

The Ferengi's head twisted and turned in mistrust, making his metallic head decoration quiver. "And, just how long might calming them down take? And just what trade deals might you be making in another room behind our back to close us out? Picard, we are going to contact them on our own. We have no quarrel with them! We shall transport down and introduce ourselves!"

Picard's smile turned deadly sweet. "Of course you realize the Romulans are keeping close watch on the proceedings. A shame, really, their unreasonable dislike for your race. They, no doubt, would detect your presence on the surface and if they should decide to shoot at you while you are on the planet, we would be forced to retaliate on your behalf, of course. Unfortunately, they're excellent marksmen and some of your people might be killed first. I'm fairly certain they wouldn't shoot if you were in our company, but you use your best judgment."

The Ferengi's headdress froze. "Picard, I wouldn't put it past you not to have hired those thugs just to keep us from trading freely with Kron. How dare you? There are more than enough riches on those two planets for all of us! You just want to keep us out of any fair trade!"

"I am expected elsewhere at the moment. Please feel free to monitor our communications."

The metal dangles on the headdress flashed again, "Yes, yes. We may as well listen to how you plan to stab us in the back."

Picard turned his back on the screen. "Close the channel, Mr. Worf." As the view screen reverted to the view of the planet, Picard asked, "Mr. Worf, were the Romulans scanning our talk with the Ferengi?"

"No, sir. I believe they're too busy scanning the planet for weapons. They probably know we're scanning them and so are being careful to avoid being openly concerned with us."

As Riker entered again, Picard turned to him, "Number One, is everything ready?"

"Yes, sir, everything except for Deanna. She respectfully requests that she be allowed to finish a project in the Menagerie. She said that it shouldn't take more than an hour and that she could be available, if the need arises. She's waiting for your decision."

Biting his lip for a second, Picard answered, "Yes, I suppose that will do, although I'd rather not be without some sort of secondary interpretation, right now. Tell Deanna she may finish what she's doing and can come down at the earliest opportunity. Have Geordi send Lieutenant Bundawba with a portable link to Linguistics just as soon as he can get the gear together. I want him down there within seconds of my arrival. You have the bridge, Commander."

TBC to Chapter 22

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	22. More Discoveries

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Another step to understanding, both on board the Enterprise, and on Kron.

Chapter 22

When Lieutenant Bundawba arrived on Kron carrying the portable link strapped to his shoulder, the rest of the Away Team were busy either connecting the extra communications unit or being attentive to the conversation between Picard and the Kronatina.

Motioned by Captain, the young man went to stand at Picard's side. He was introduced to a group of Kronatina who were standing on some low pedestals very closely grouped together. Paying attention to what was being said and at the same time, trying not to gawk at his surroundings, was nearly an impossible task.

The huge hall was magnificently ethereal with glossy white walls that undulated in sweeping curves. There wasn't a corner to be found in the vaguely oval space. Soft lighting, reflected and enhanced by the walls, was provided by what looked like glowing pearlescent clouds, which varied in size from a common bed pillow to that of a small mattress. All were floating at various levels from perhaps four meters above the floor to an indefinable height, high into the slightly misty atmosphere. Whatever ceiling there might have been was obscured by the mist or was so high, it was lost in darkness. Windows, two meters tall and deeply set, placed randomly at wide intervals, brought in shafts of pale sunlight that cut cleanly through the vaporous air. The floor was dark, and contained grains of a light-reflecting material that made it look like a deep pool filled with stars. All about the floor of the great hall were clumps of round platforms each about two meters in diameter, three to five to a clump, made of the same pearlescent material as the walls. Of the ten or so clusters of platforms, only three were occupied by Kronatina, the rest were empty. The iridescent feathers of the headdresses looked particularly brilliant in the light of the hall.

Bundawba had to pull his mind back, away from the sights, to deal with what was going on around him.

"We'll be grateful for any help your medical team can give to Doctor T'Shing," Picard was saying to the nearest group fronted an individual wearing a particularly elegantly chapeau. "When I last spoke with her, she said that she was waiting for the medical computer to work out an antibiotic that would be appropriate. Perhaps your team will have some information that is useful."

From his higher position above the Enterprise team, A's'kahn'a looked imposing. "Oh, Picard, we remain much concerned for our fellow Kronatt and we are glad you wish us to work together to help S's'haht'a regain health. Our doctors will confer with your doctors and a cure will bring our fellow Kronatt, who happens to be my special friend, back to us safely. Meanwhile, we would wish to bring the bad feelings to an end."

"It is our sincere wish also. Maybe this mishap will bring us all more closely together in mutual understanding."

All of the Kronatina bowed slightly.

A man in engineer gold called out from beside the com' unit, "Captain, Doctor T'Shing is waiting."

From another clump of pedestals, a group of three Kronatina descended and advanced to the second screen. Picard, accompanied by A's'kahn'a' and his group, also approached. Doc D'Jang was in view standing beside the feathered Kronatt lying on a metal table. Even Picard, who was no great authority on animals, could see that the feathers spread across the exam table looked dull, and scuffed.

"Oh, A's'kahn'a, this is one of our Federation officers, Doctor T'Shing D'Jang dal. Are you ready for a conference, Doctor?" asked Picard.

More sober than he had yet seen her, she answered in subdued tones, "Most certainly, Captain. Are these the doctors who will be aiding me?"

A's'kahn'a introduced them, moving from one to the other and raising his hand to their faces as he spoke their names. "A'fend-ran, T'kris-ran, and A'm'sehn-ran."

They bowed. A'm'sehn-ran spoke immediately. "What do you know of the condition of our fellow, Doctor T'Shing D'Jang dal?"

Even though he knew some medical terminology and even understood some of it, Picard noted that once doctors began talking, he still felt like he was listening to a foreign language with no translator. Apparently the Kronatina felt the same because as soon as the talk began A's'kahn'a moved away.

"Come, Oh, Picard, we will speak while our doctors confer." The tall Kronatt led the way back to the clump of pedestals and ponderously climbed on. The others followed suit. He turned to look down on Picard, Bundawba, and a security guard who maintained a respectable step to the back. "So, what would we say, Oh, Picard?"

"We are most anxious to resume our previous status among you, of course. As you know, part of our charge from the Federation is to explore the possibility of trade with you. You have already spoken of that with another race known as the Romulans. We understand, however, that you asked the Romulans to leave, before our own misunderstanding. Would it be allowed for us to know why?"

"We are not familiar with all of the details of that meeting." A's'kahn'a nodded clumsily around to the other Kronatina. "Others, not ourselves, met with the Romulans, not of the Federation. I believe that those who say they are Romulans, not of the Federation, refused to become acquainted with a fellow Kronatt. Not one of them would receive the company. They even became upset at being asked and began making some sort of threats, so they were asked to leave. That is my knowledge of the matter."

Picard wondered only briefly, how angry the Romulans would have been if they'd fallen ill after wearing the 'hat.' While the thought circled his mind, he nodded and hoped they saw it as a gesture of understanding. "I see. And do you require this of all envoys who would seek trade with you?"

"Of course. Is this not a right and correct way of behaving?"

Picard smiled, "Of course. It is your way and you are right and correct. You are aware that the Romulans still have not left orbit."

"Yes, and for that, we have gladness."

"But you asked them to leave."

"Only the meeting." Somehow, the goat-bleating voice sounded gentle.

"You intend to resume talks with them?"

Again the gentle reply, "Of course. Is this not a right and correct way of behaving?"

Picard wanted to say, 'not with the Romulans, it isn't,' but instead he gave the only acceptable reply, "Of course, it is your way and you are right and correct. And now I would wish to introduce—"

Before Picard could finish his sentence, the Ferengi materialized a few feet away. _'What_,' he wondered, _'had been keeping them?_' He'd actually expected them to appear within seconds of his own arrival. "I understand you have been told of the Ferengi, who are not of the Federation?" He had almost said, 'warned' of the Ferengi.

"Your great person, O'Doone, of the previous contact, made mention of the Ferengi, not of the Federation, as well as others, also not of the Federation." A's'kahn'a paused as if to catch his breath. "We have many who are ready to speak to those who may come. We are eager to learn of all who are not Kronatina."

The Ferengi were ignored by the Kronatina so Picard motioned to one of the members of the Away Team to greet them and bring them to his side.

As A's'kahn'a spoke, one of the third group of Kronatina stepped off of his pedestal and left the hall, but shortly returned, with a group of five others. Before any of the Ferengi could speak, this group presented themselves, received the Ferengian translation device clips, attached them to their harnesses, and introduced themselves. After a few words, they all left the main hall but not before several of the Ferengi tossed defiant looks at the Enterprise captain.

Ignoring the Ferengi, Picard made use of the time by conferring with Bundawba on the use of pronouns.

Bundawba's answer was not comforting. "Sir, I think Linguistics is going to have to bring a team down and redo the whole pronoun structure." Then, wisely, the Lieutenant changed the subject by asking, "Do you suppose all the hats are alive or just some of them?"

Before Picard could reply, the group around the communications unit stirred. A gesture from one of the doctors brought a Kronatt from the third group from off his pedestal to stride quickly to A's'kahn'a. While A's'kahn'a bent over and touched carapaces with his friend, a voice called to Picard via his personal com' unit.

"Captain? Riker here. Seems our guest had another secret. I just heard from both Deanna and Doc D'Jang."

&&&&

After the meeting in the Observation Lounge, Deanna headed to the Menagerie. She wanted to know more about the animals that looked so much like humans that the two men had decided to marry them. If she could see them, she thought she might be able to help the men more effectively. First, she had checked on would-be grooms and felt assured they'd probably sleep another several hours. Confident in Guinan's flair for various concoctions, she had no worries, so, after leaving a recorded message saying to call her when they awakened; she headed off to Doc D'Jang's country.

After receiving permission to continue with this project while on stand-by to the Captain on the planet below, she stood thoughtfully in front of the large semi-holographic enclosure. Not only had the technician escorted her, showing the way through the maze of large cages that housed the various creatures, she had stayed with her long enough to give as some background about these exotic, human-like creatures.

Although barely larger than five meters cubed, the ceiling and three walls were enhanced with holographic images giving the impression of being much more vast. The area looked like a group of craggy rocks overgrown in grassy vegetation and broad-leafed bushy plants, some a couple of meters tall, with a canopy of tree branches overhead. In the forefront, near the transparent fourth wall, that was undoubtedly disguised from the inside in some manner, was a shallow pool, in which cavorted, what looked like a naked human girl whose skin was swirled in a rainbow. Lying beside the pool also decked out in nothing but her multicolored skin, was the other 'girl'. Both were divinely lovely.

At first glance, Deanna found herself feeling outraged that these two beautiful nymphs should be considered animals that had to be caged. Even while listening to the technician's account of the initial observation and careful testing for signs even of pre-intelligence and lack thereof, she knew, just knew! that these were sentient beings. They looked human, how could they not be? She wanted them to be people!

Only after the technician had excused herself to tend to other duties, did Deanna realize how quiet the area was. Oh, she sensed everyone in the ship, as she always did, but here, separated by bulkheads, alone, as if she were in her own shielded quarters, the quiet was quite noticeable. There were animal sounds all around, but not the buffeting of thought. Next to this cage was the sparse, desert-furnished enclosure for a gerkiland, which was busy doing something noisy, digging, grunting, and snuffling. Behind, bear-like, bipedal creatures were softly snorting. But it was all physical noise, easily ignored. What she didn't hear, was the mental noise; there were no human emotions hammering at her, except from a great distance. Suddenly those two delightful creatures in front of her were beautiful animals, not people. She couldn't sense them, couldn't determine if they were bored, happy, or hungry.

'_So'_, she thought, '_maybe this is what it's like for non-sensitives_. _How peaceful it is to just look at someone and not have to protect myself all of the time._' She stood for quite some time, watching. What a joy just to observe a humanoid without being torn at, clawed at by raw emotions.

The one in the pool began climbing out and was stopped by her sister-companion, who pushed her back into the water. The first heaved herself back up and sat beside the other, mock-battling with her on the pool's rocky edge, like two kittens playing. They gently feinted with their hands and with their mouths, ducking and snarling softly, trying to slap and bite, each reaching for the other's midsection. Whether by design or accident, they both ended up tumbling back into the pool.

Deanna flinched at the splash and couldn't help but think that perhaps the two saw her move. Seeing the ghost images of plants dripping just in front of her, she concluded that the two youngsters saw the front wall only as a plant-lined rock face. As always, she marveled at the wonders of holographic projections.

The two attractive creatures separated from each other, climbed out on opposite sides of the pool, and not paying much attention to one another, began drying themselves off, wiping with their four-fingered hands and licking themselves with bright pink tongues. There was not much drying to be done, since their cream-colored furry bristles, sparsely covering the tops of their heads, ran in a line nearly halfway down their spines, and seemed to funnel the water to the point between their shoulders and down their backs. Their multihued skin also apparently had a waxy coating so that the water was easily brushed off, leaving them entirely dry in seconds.

Deanna watched, entranced. A short while later, she was fairly sure of what she would be listening for, later on, from the two disappointed bridegrooms. Regretting the call to duty, but ready, she left the large animal enclosure area, feeling more at peace than she had felt in ages.

The Counselor seldom had to ask for directions when all she had to do was follow the trail of the appropriate emotions. In this case, the clinical interest of Dr. D'Jang brought her to the Menagerie's primary exam room. Architecturally a duplicate of the human infirmary, the only difference was that the main area held metal exam tables instead of couches. On one of the tables, Deanna spied the now familiar array of feathers. A temporary view screen was set up showing a trio of Kronatina that she sensed had the same sort of medical-clinician attitude she often felt from Beverly or Doc D'Jang. The veterinarian was standing in front of a diagnostic board, explaining the computer generated symbols, gave the counselor a nod.

"Gentlemen, a moment please. I see a colleague is here. Please, excuse me while I speak with her."

The three bulky medicos all brayed their assent.

"Deanna, so glad you came here, now. I'm just about talked out. What can I do for you?"

"I was looking at the humanoid girls for a minute and I just wanted to ask you some questions about what occurred with the bridegrooms. I see you're busy though."

"What do you need to know? I need to take a break. I love talking shop but having to explain every ruddy detail of the diagnostic tools is making me crazy. Not only am I trying to show them how I know about some of the internal workings of their little pet, but also I'm trying to explain the chemical breakdown of the antibiotic in terms we all understand. Now we're trying to decide if it would work without positively killing our patient. So, what did you think of the girls?"

They are lovely creatures, aren't they? I think I have some ideas on how to deal with their…" She almost said husbands. "I guess we have to call them owners, now. I also thought I'd see if I could possibly get any inspiration from the Kronatin pet." She couldn't take her eyes from the Kronatt. "By the way, S's'haht'a is feeling much better."

Looking rueful, D'Jang replied, "I sure hope so. I still can't—" She looked piercingly at the Counselor.

TBC to Chapter 23

Thank you for reading. I hope you are enjoying this.


	23. Assumptions

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Several steps in the right direction are taken, much to the Ferengi's consternation.

Chapter 23

Suddenly there were two entirely different conferences going on in the magnificent hall. The Kronatin doctors were communing with the Kronatin diplomats, and the members of the Away Team were huddled around both of the communications units talking with Commander Riker on the bridge on one screen, and with Counselor Troi and Doc D'Jang on the other. Both groups were discussing the same turn of events.

Then, as if in mutual agreement, the two conference groups broke apart at nearly the same time; The five diplomats returned to their pedestals, and the three doctors returned to theirs. The Away Team stood just behind Captain Picard on the floor in front of the diplomats.

A's'kahn'a spoke first. "Oh, Picard, the news is good. We are pleased to hear our fellow Kronatt is to be returned to us in good health. I will be glad to see my friend among us again."

"Yes," replied Picard, "S's'haht'a will be transported here immediately." He paused, searching for the words, smiling slightly as he did so, bemused at the day's constant turn of events. "Apparently we've all been laboring under quite a misunderstanding."

"Is this so?" A's'kahn'a inquired. "What misunderstanding? Do you refer to the illnesses?"

Picard smiled. "I think perhaps the extent of it will be explained as soon as your friend is brought here. You see, we, of the Federation, have been making some unwarranted assumptions, and for all I know, some are still being made. Ah, here they are."

The characteristic sparkle and sound of air displacement brought both Deanna, who was holding a tray on which the Kronatt sat, and D'Jang, who looked a little like the perfect student in class, the one with all of the answers.

The Kronatin doctors immediately descended from their pedestals with slight grunts and quickly approached the tray. First, one prodded the feathers gently and then, laying an instrument on the crown of the carapace, consulted the readout hanging from the attachment on his belt. Nodding to his cohorts, he then bowed so deeply to the Kronatt on the tray that he gently touched the carapaces with his own hat. At the same time, he gently took the tray from Deanna, presenting the patient to his companions who also bowed. Finally, they stepped back a pace, turned and each gave A's'kahn'a a high sign.

Satisfied with the signal, A's'kahn'a continued his dialog. "Assumptions, oh Picard?"

"Yes, but, before we carry on, wouldn't it be right and proper for S's'haht'a to be united with the one who ordinarily wears, uh…" He motioned to the tray as he let his voice trail off.

This caused some consternation among the Kronatina. Several bowed slightly to each other, briefly touching carapaces.

Looking at his people to assure himself that they were remaining calm and in control, and to assure them that he was doing the same, Picard turned to face the group patiently.

The Kronatina conference concluded, one of them motioned to the messengers, one of which stepped gingerly from his low pedestal and then loped quickly to the group of diplomats. Picard noticed the messengers all had slightly darker fur than the doctors and diplomats and that the feathers on the headgear were somewhat shorter. After a brief touching of the carapaces on each of the group, the messenger left through a door nestled in one of the curves of the wall.

A's'kahn'a, bending over so that the eyes of the Kronatt on top were looking into Picard's face, said, "He is being brought."

A few wordless minutes later, a bareheaded Kronatt was escorted into the hall. If the halter was any indication, he seemed to be the same one who had been deprived of the hat that morning. The two with him each had one four-digit hand on the strap over the shoulder and another on belt and seemed to both guide and partially support him in the same way they had before.

Picard intervened, turning to the group of diplomats. "Please, would you indulge us for one more moment? Would it be possible for this Kronatt to stand alone and for our Doctor T'Shing to come close to him?"

Again, the Kronatina showed some consternation.

Picard put his arms out to his side, his palms up. "I assure you, she'll not bring any harm. Please?"

A's'kahn'a apparently made a command decision on his own, and without conference he said, "He will sit." He gestured at the escorts.

The two guides pushed and tugged at the bareheaded companion, forcing him to kneel, and then stood over him until they seemed assured he would remain as he was. Backing off a step, they looked expectantly at Picard. Though their subject looked myopically about, he seemed content to be on the ground.

Receiving the go-ahead from Picard, the veterinarian approached the Kronatt, squatted down on her haunches, and stared intently into the furry face. Looking back at her, he slowly blinked his eyes, and then, as if losing interest, resumed his passive glancing about the room. When D'Jang reached out and stroked his shoulder, he only glanced back at her and then leaned ever so slightly into her hand. Tentatively, she scratched his chest at the base of his neck, and he stretched his chin upwards, leaning forward ever so slightly. Pushed backwards, D'Jang caught herself just in time before falling, and though he watched, he made no effort to prevent her fall. All the while, she stared into the deep brown eyes, not saying a word. Finally, she stood up and gently slapped the broad fur covered back and nodded at Picard saying, "I suggest that the owner," she motioned to the kneeling figure, "be allowed to join with her mount." She gestured to the tray.

Catching the wording, wondering if the Kronatina had noticed, Picard turned to the diplomats. "Would it be possible for us to see these two united?"

Although the furred Kronatina remained standing quietly, the tendrils on their heads rose upwards for an instant and then shivered briefly. Then A's'kahn'a said, almost hesitantly, "F'rrn'a, please assist S's'haht'a." He motioned to one of the escorts.

Moving eagerly to the tray in Deanna's hands, F'rrn'a gently removed the curved, feathered body while the other escort squatted down and grabbed the halter of the bareheaded Kronatt with both hands. As F'rrn'a lowered the feathered Kronatt, there was a moment where the bareheaded Kronatt seemed to object to having his head covered, first trying to rise, then ducking. Held fast, however, he accepted the fit, and, as the cowl slipped onto his head, became quiet. Then the escorts stood and stepped back respectfully, while the newly be-feathered Kronatt stood with great dignity and joined the diplomats. They all touched each other.

Picard gave a look to the away team that signified that now either all was well or all hell was about to break loose and to be ready for anything. Waiting for the conferring Kronatina to reach a conclusion, he quietly asked Deanna if she sensed any hostility.

"No, sir. An exchange of information is all. Questions, answers, revelations on both sides. There is also a sense of relief."

Suddenly, one of the inner doors on the far side of the hall burst open, through which scuttled one of the Ferengi. Hunched over, running on all fours, he seemed to be absolutely terrorized, as if fleeing for his life. Perched on his head, looking odd on the bulging cranium, was a feathered Kronatt. In hot pursuit behind him came groups of Ferengi and Kronatina. The Ferengi were shouting at their companion as well as making threats to the accompanying Kronatina.

"What's wrong?"

What have they done to you?"

"You'll all pay for this!"

"You're scaring him."

"Stop!"

The Kronatina, though long legged and fast, couldn't catch the zigzagging, scurrying Ferengi. Several used broad gestures that apparently signaled the messengers, who jumping from their pedestals, avidly joined in the furious pursuit.

While most stood and watched, dumbfounded, Doc D'Jang dashed in front of the fleeing Ferengi and expertly sent him veering towards the curving walls. There, surrounding of the larger inward curves, the pursuers spread out and tried to corner the panting Ferengi. Not willing to give up, he burst through the widespread legs of a Kronatt and skittered across the hall.

D'Jang shouted, "Don't let him near a door!"

Again, they cornered him and D'Jang ordered as she came up from behind, "Close the ranks! Watch your legs! Grab him but don't let him bite!"

She could just as well have saved her breath. The Ferengi in flight made a half-hearted attempt to scale the smooth wall and then collapsed in a heaving, slavering heap. The usually yellow tinged skin had turned a sickly flat brown.

The panting group crowded in around him, and D'Jang pushed to the front. Pointing a finger at one of the Ferengi, she shouted, "No! Don't leave yet. Wait!"

The Ferengi who was signaling his ship to transport the lot of them from the hall snarled at her, "We must get out of here before these creatures attack another of us. Save yourself, human."

As if proving their suspicions correct, a Kronatt launched himself at their fallen companion, pushing the other Ferengi aside. Before they could react, he grabbed at the feathers, yanking it from the double lobed cranium, and quickly backed off. He'd hardly had a chance to clear himself from the Ferengi group when they flashed out of existence with the pop that was typical of their transport effect.

In the ensuing silence, her voice loaded with mock indignation, Doc D'Jang said, "Well!"

Again, there were two conferences, one among the humans, one among the Kronatina. The human one beginning with D'Jang saying, "I think they got mad and went home, Captain."

TBC to Chapter 24

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	24. Revelations

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Revelations unfold for the Away Team.

Chapter 24

The group of Kronatina who had been in pursuit of the Ferengi silently greeted the diplomats, touching carapaces and then departed, carrying the one that had been taken from the Ferengi. The diplomats quietly conferred.

Waiting for the Kronatina to finish their discussion, Picard noticed that three of the four messengers were dispatched out of the hall. Then, A's'kahn'a and his partners resumed their places.

"We can now agree with you that there has been misunderstanding," said A's'kahn'a. "Most certainly on our part. Where we hoped to make closer contact with you and with those of the Ferengi, not of the Federation, we find we distressed you and put one of our members in danger. In the same ignorance, we caused great distress to the Ferengi, Rantar, who had agreed to accept the company of T'kriss'a. We can only hope he does not fall ill, as your Riker did." The long speech apparently taxed him and he paused for breath. "It is through your kindness and willingness to understand that our companion, S's'haht'a was made well, reunited with his..." and here the universal translator failed. Only A's'kahn'a's voice could be heard with no accompanying translation, saying something that sounded like 'muf-funga-na'.

Picard's eyes looked to Lieutenant Bundawba who was examining the instrument in his hand and nodding to the voice coming from his insignia. Satisfied, he turned to answer Picard's silent query. "The closest Linguistics can come up with is 'mount, friend, servant, or perhaps second other.' All seem to apply equally. They'll have to hear it used a few more times before they come up with a more suitable translation."

Picard turned back to the diplomat. "We are here to learn. Will you please continue to speak of your relationship with your fellows you take upon your heads?"

The Kronatt opened his arms at his sides; his palms up imitating Picard's often used gesture of intended peace. "First, let me explain something to you." He raised his hand and laid it gently on the side of the carapace on his brow. "I am a Kronatt." He lowered his hand and laid it on his chest. "This is my.." he used the still unfamiliar word. "You see..." The air was filled with a jumble of Galactic English and unfamiliar Kronatin words.

Exasperated, Picard turned to Lieutenant Bundawba, and when the young man didn't reply immediately, he became more agitated. Before he lost patience entirely, the young linguist said, "Apparently the phrasing he just used has something to do with the relationship that exists between the feathered one and the one with fur." He shrugged his shoulders. "I suggest you perhaps get more information about the relationship. Neither the translator nor the guys on the ship can make much of it yet."

Picard tugged at the bottom of his uniform blouse. "As you can hear, we're still at a loss about certain things. Only recently have we found that the Kronatina, with what we call feathers, was a live entity, separate from the Kronatina that wears...carries the other. More, we were surprised to realize that you with the feathers," he looked up to the shining deep wine colored eyes, "are intelligent."

This remark caused some excitement among the Kronatina. Not only did the feathers rise and ripple, but the furred ones carrying them also stamped and shifted position, brushing against each other, as well as muttering among themselves. Finally, A's'kahn'a turned and said, "Do you mean to say you believe our mufunga'na are of the Kronatina?"

Picard answered, "Since they speak for the both of you, I assumed they were Kronatina, yes. What, then do you call them?"

"Mufunga'na."

Captain Picard opened his mouth without speaking and shook his head. Then he said, "I'm afraid I don't yet comprehend.

Troi and D'Jang, who had been quietly talking with one another in the background, stepped forward. Troi, who placed herself between the Captain and the diplomats, spoke first. "Sir, I believe Dr. T'Shing and I can explain." She turned to the diplomats. "Perhaps you would care to confirm?" They all crowded forward towards the edge of their platforms. "Dr. T'Shing, will you start?"

D'Jang looked speculatively first at the furred bipeds and then at the feathered ones on top. "Captain, the mufunga'nas are animals and the Kronatina, the ones on top, are the sentients. The mufunga'nas are the legs, hands, and voice for the Kronatina. The Kronatina are not only intelligent but use mind control over animals. The mufunga'nas are, I would say, about as intelligent as the ertary of Dolanzia or perhaps the horse of Earth."

Deanna spoke up. "By mounting us, the Ferengi, and the Romulans, as they do their mufunga'na, the Kronatina thought that they would gain true insight into what we are." Without looking at Riker on the com' screen, Deanna could sense him stiffening in offense at the implication. "It's rather more like the control that's necessary when any intelligent species rides an animal. We don't talk with a horse and say, 'let's go over there,' we control it by use of bridle and bit, by the reins, and by pressure from the knees. The Kronatina use mental control by direct contact with the nervous system. By force of their sentience, they control and direct the animal."

She looked to the Kronatina for confirmation. Since they stood silent, she continued.

"In the case of Commander Riker, in order for the Kronatt to control him, she had to subordinate the animal in him. In order to do that, S's'haht'a had to reinforce his animal behaviors and dampen the higher cerebral functions. The process didn't interfere with his sentience, but reinforced his ancestral animal-ness to the point that it dominated his personality. The Kronatina naturally exude chemicals that allow physical, as well as mind control; a lucky symbiosis on this planet. What the Kronatt did not count on was the reaction from the rest of us to Riker's animal behavior, especially from the women, and especially from a doctor who sees behavioral changes as a possible sign of illness. As for the Ferengi behavior, I can't say, since I don't know their origin, but I'd venture to say we witnessed something of the very primitive Ferengi." She looked to D'Jang.

"Deanna's right. Where human origins are lengthy, millions of years, evolving from a squirrel like creature to one that resembled the chimpanzee, and so on, the Ferengi evolution was rather abrupt. They were once creatures that we would say looked like Earth's guinea pigs or mockeruggers, and then they made a tremendous evolutionary leap in less than a million years. From being small bushes creatures, they gained their present form and sentience. They were building cities, and looking towards the stars in what we'd call an 'archeological blink of an eye'. I think we could assume the pre-evolution Ferengi would have been a cautious, easily frightened animal, which is what we saw, scurrying around the hall. Apparently it took only moments for the Kronatt to raise that primitive creature in the Ferengi, where it took a couple of hours for Commander Riker to regress."

D'Jang smiled as Picard asked, "But why the trick? Why dominate? Why not just ask for a mind touch, like the Vulcans?"

S's'haht'a stepped forward. "I think I can explain, now. First, let me apologize for what I did to your Commander Riker. I tried to dominate him, as I would have an untrained mufunga'na. I did not even check out his intelligent mind-will. By the time I realized that I had violated one of your deepest taboos, I was helplessly alone and quite ill. I tried to contact him, but he is mind deaf."

Commander Riker blanched at the words.

Turning to Riker's image, S's'haht'a continued, "However, I did learn of you and now I know that we Kronatina are quite unique in the universe. What we do, we can only do with true animals. To have tried it with an intelligent species was a great mistake. We probably will do well to stick with our dear mufunga'nas. I think you can understand our mutual confusion. I'm afraid we saw you as strangely intelligent acting mufunga'nas that would gladly accept our guidance and care. You, I believe, saw us as intelligent, shaggy bipeds that have a penchant for wearing fancy hats." The Kronatt paused and all of the mufunga'nas stood quite still while the feathers of the Kronatina all vibrated.

Troi giggled and seeing Picard's puzzled expression explained, "They're laughing. They see this as a great comedy of errors."

Picard's face relaxed into a smile. "Yes, truly, it has been. I do think, however, that the Ferengi may not have quite the same view of the situation.

A's'kahn'a's mufunga'na raised a hand, palm upwards, and then reversed the palm down and lowered it. "We are at this moment explaining to the Ferengi, who are not of the Federation, that the Kronatina desire to refuse their offer of trade."

"Was their reaction to you so offensive?" inquired Picard.

The feathers of all the Kronatina rose slightly and smoothed. At the same time, A's'kahn'a leaned slightly to one of the other diplomats on the pedestals. They changed places and the new one spoke this time. "I am P'rrdtl'a. The mufunga'na of A's'kahn'a is tiring from the effort of speaking so he has asked us to speak in his stead." Picard inclined his head in acknowledgment. "We are surprised at your remark because we forget we must speak to you in order for you to comprehend. When we rescued T'kriss'a from the head of the Ferengi, who is not of the Federation, he stated that they were people we may not be able to trade with."

It was Picard's turn to register surprise. "May we know why?"

P'rrdtl'a conferred with A's'kahn'a silently for a moment. "Although we cannot communicate with the mind deaf, we can get a sense of how a foreign mind works. We suppose that the only phrase applicable is that the mind of the Ferengi had an extremely unpleasant taste. We have a saying, 'Ugly mind, ugly actions'."

Riker asked, "And my mind passed the test?"

S's'haht'a spoke up, "I was much surprised at how comfortable I felt with you. I was taken by surprise by your difference from a mufunga'na more than the difference of your gender, but it was rather like being in communication with a fellow Kronatt in familiarity. Apparently, the difference of gender was part of the ugly feeling T'kriss'a felt. The Ferengi cannot deal with females because they do not like females."

Picard picked up on the remark. "Yes, we noticed that you seem to take little verbal notice of sexual differences. Will we have much contact with more of the distaff side, apart from S's'haht'a?"

Again the brief rise and lowering of the tendrils. This time, not only did P'rrdtl'a's mufunga'na nod and weave but also bent over to bring the eyes of its rider down towards Picard. "I beg your pardon?"

Picard knew he'd made another faux pas but was not quite sure what it was. He smiled uncertainly, "We know that S's'haht'a is female, will we be meeting more females?"

The carapaces of the Kronatina all briefly touched all around and then the tendrils all rose and vibrated. Picard turned to Deanna.

She confirmed what he asked with his eyes. "Yes, Captain, they're laughing again. This is even funnier to them than before."

P'rrrdtl'a finally seemed to regain a bit of control. "Oh, Picard, all of us whom you have met, save for two of the doctors, are female. 'I' am female!"

"But—" Picard was about to refer to the translation and then he looked sharply at Bundawba. The young Lieutenant's dark skin glistened under the scrutiny while talking quietly with Linguistics. Picard let out a gush of air and he turned back to the diplomats whose feathers were still rippling. "I think we've just discovered another assumption, haven't we?" He looked out of the corner of his eye at Bundawba and made a mental note to have the Federation check out Linguistics operations. He also wanted to think about recommending a promotion for Bundawba. The young man had been right on the nose with his analysis.

A's'kahn'a and P'rrdtl'a stepped from their pedestal and stood beside Picard. While the feathers still fluttered a bit, P'rrdtl'a said, "Do you think we can dispense with further rituals of diplomacy for now? Our day is ending. We can speak again tomorrow. It has been a long day."

Picard nodded his head. "I doubt that I shall ever see a longer one."

The great furred mufunga'na waved at the rest of the diplomats and was caused to say, "Let us spend time together, be of company for a few moments before you depart for the evening. We would invite you to dine with us, but while my dear old Haffin, here, eats grains and greens without noticeable social manners, I dine on what you would call live bugs. You, on the other hand, are omnivorous and I understand that, among other things, you occasionally dine on feathered creatures called birds." The feathers waved and vibrated again. "Somehow, I just don't think any of us are quite ready for that." She turned and made a broad motion with her arm. "A's'kahn'a, would you care to lead the way?"

The chief diplomat stepped forward. "Come, I would like to take you for a walk. Let us get away from these dreary halls."

Picard looked about at what was being called dreary, but quickly smiled in agreement. They left through the tall and graciously arched entrance doors. Outside, on either side of the great causeway, a park glowed in the purple light of the setting sun.

The rest of the Kronatina stepped down from their pedestals and quickly divided themselves up among the members of the Away Team.

Riker, talking with S's'haht'a asked, "Okay, I can understand the tour of the ship and that you have a personal fascination with weapons, but why did you want me to take the Enterprise out of orbit?"

The mufunga'na bent over slightly so that her carapace was at eye level with Riker's image. "Our most advanced interstellar ships achieve barely warp two-point-three; I wished to see what it was like to go the nine-point-five your crew member spoke about." Standing back up, she waved a paw. "Now, it will not be."

"Have you done much interplanetary travel?"

"Yes! Of course. Besides being diplomat, I am an Admiral in our space fleet, curently in command of a new supply ship. However, my ship is small as compared to the Enterprise. I do have a small yacht on board for my personal use, which is the best in its class but is nothing as compared to the speed of your Enterprise. On the other hand, I have superb maneuverability and can practically make right angle turns at full speed. I'ts just that I wanted more. What does the universe look like at warp nine?" Her voice panted out the last few words, her mount tiring from the long speech.

Riker smiled his most engaging smile. "It sounds like you have quite a hyped-up space yacht. Tell you what. You take me for a ride on yours and I'll take you for a ride on mine."

S's'haht'a's feathers stood out in anticipation.

Bundawba, was talking via his personal communicator with Linguistics. "Mike? I'm here with P'rrrdtl'a. She's agreed to return with me and help you guys out with translating. You not only get a lesson in species references, but it seems there's a whole secondary language to feather twitches."

"I look forward to meeting her."

"As soon as we all get sorted out here, I'm going to bring her up." He turned to P'rrdtl'a. "Or do I refer to you in the plural?" He looked from the face of the furred creature to the cool eyes of the Kronatt.

The reedy voice answered, "In the case of doing the translation work, you mention only the singular, since it is only I who can do it. However, in mentioning transport to your ship you would use the plural of two, with an accompanying subjunctive, to indicate mufunga'na and owner. If any of my companions were to be transported with me, then the plural of many, no subjunctive, would be used."

Bundawba nodded and said, "Uh-huh. I got a feeling I'm going to have to reprogram the translator with a whole big set of ifs and wherefores."

"Aw, gee," came the quip over the communicator, "You mean you're going to have to work for a change?"

"You think you'll get off easy? You not only get to figure out the ifs and wherefores but the body language as well. And you'll have to figure out which of the mufunga'na body movements to ignore and which of them mean something. Then there's the slighter feather twitches. But you know what?" He turned at smiled at the waiting alien, "P'rrrdtl'a is so darned pretty you won't mind."

"Has she got a friend?" asked the voice. "I mean, I don't want you to get lonely."

The young man looked nervously at the Kronatt, wondering if she understood human bantering. The shaggy humanoid mount leaned over with its mouth close to the insignia on Bundawba's blouse. The head was bent slightly sideways so the feathers would not overwhelm the engineer's face. One of her eyes glowed into his dark ones. "Mike? This is P'rrrdtl'a. I thank you for your interest. Does this mean we are engaged?" She stood up.

After a brief silence, the voice in the air said, "Uh, Lieutenant Bundawba? Did I just stick my foot in my mouth?"

"Relax Romeo, I think you just met your match. She's standing here, er, sitting here, laughing herself silly."

Doc D'Jang was holding court with three Kronatin doctors. "I can't express how relieved I am that you," she waved a hand at the mounted Kronatina, "are sentient. Not being able to hear S's'haht'a, I was sure she was either dead or that I was losing my touch."

"But you do not hear our mufunga'na, even being close now?"

"Not when they're under your control. After several hundred generations of breeding, they surrender completely to your domination. And, I must say, your ability to control their muscle reflexes even to the point of speech is incredible. But why speech at all since you're telepathic?" inquired D'Jang.

A'sehn'an answered. "We can only communicate directly with each other when touching. When we first gained authority over the mufunga'nas, we found freedom of movement but we had to develop ways of communicating over even minor distances. At first, the ancients developed hand signals and then, since mufunga'nas can make sounds, it was a short step to having them speak our thoughts. We, the Kronatina, cannot make sounds."

The vet patted a mufunga'na on its forearm, "You need a huge amount of fine motor control to get them to form words with their mouths and tongues. And when I think of the additional diaphragm control for sentence phrasing, well, it's unbelievable, that's all. No wonder we thought you looked like marionettes; that much controlled effort in the fine motor muscles has to affect the larger gross control muscles. They keep trying to balance themselves, right?"

"Yes. We have been fascinated by the dexterity you all display as you speak. We have not found a way to develop a thought translator yet, so we have to put up with dancing as we talk."

D'Jang's hearty laugh echoed throughout the hall.

TBC to Chapter 25

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	25. Romulans to the Rescue

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: The Romulans arrive

Chapter 25

Though the Romulan transport effect was similar to that of the Federation, it, nevertheless, caused great surprise and consternation as several of the pointed-eared aliens arrived in the hall. The consternation increased when the two groups, Kronatina and Federation, noticed two of the Romulans were carrying phasers, aimed, in general fashion, at all of the hall occupants.

Captain Larek, surrounded by five henchmen, looked first at Deanna and told her, "Summon Captain Picard."

Before replying to her captor, she tapped her communicator insignia and spoke quietly, "Riker." Then, she said with as much righteous indignation as she could summon. "What is the meaning of this?"

Standing statue-still, his eyes glittering, Larek replied, "Just tell Picard to return as quickly as possible." Leveling his chin at his victims like a weapon, he taunted, "And don't expect help. At the very moment that we transported here, my ship powered up our phasers aimed at your ship, forcing your people to raise their shields. If they lower them for even one second, to operate the transporters, to take you out, or to bring down your security agents, we will fire."

Riker's concerned voice confirmed Larek' statements. Deanna continued, "Stand by Commander Riker, Worf, keep the channel open and record. Surely, the Treaty Organization Board will be interested."

"Recording, Counselor," rumbled Worf's answering voice.

Before Deanna could reply, Larek interrupted, "I will not hesitate to stun a couple of your friends here, if that will urge you to call Captain Picard." His eyes briefly turned towards two of the Kronatina standing close by before he watched Deanna raised her hand to her chest.

"Captain Picard? Would you please return to the hall? Captain Larek has arrived and requests your presence." Picard could not have failed to notice the slight quaver in the Counselor's voice.

His answer carried his concern, "I'm on my way. I'll be there in a few moments."

Larek spent the next few minutes gazing about at the unusual accouterments of the hall as if merely passing the time of day.

Unable to whisper, unwilling to speak aloud, the Kronatina said nothing. They did, however, wave and swing their arms a few times, apparently signaling to each other. As long as they did not move otherwise, the Romulans seemed content to let them be.

When Captain Picard entered, noting the Romulans weapons, he looked to the Away Team and around the hall as if afraid to see some sort of destruction. Assured, he strode to Deanna's side. "Counselor?" Picard did not need to ask for a report or for details of the preceding events. The comment was the shorthand of people well acquainted with each other.

Deanna quietly, concisely, filled in Picard, first assuring him that she was safe and well. When she had finished, Picard's patience snapped. He whirled to Larek and snarled, "What do you think you're doing?"

Captain Larek, his eyes condescendingly surveying the crowd in cool, calculating fashion, said, "We're rescuing you, of course."

"From what?" exploded Picard, his voice cracking in exasperation.

"From these duplicitous, conniving beings." He gave a withering glance to the Kronatina. "We've been carefully observing your interactions here, as well as scanning the entire planet for hidden weapons."

Picard stepped forward, drawing his spare frame into an imposing stance. He said, "Then why are you pointing your weapons at us? And again I ask, from what are you rescuing us?"

The Romulan smiled ruefully. "I didn't think you'd take kindly to our gracious act, so I am, shall I say, wary?" He glanced at his companions. "You Federation are known for taking far too long to recognize when you're standing in an acid bath even when it's already consuming your toes."

A's'kahn'a, who had returned with Captain Picard, had immediately assumed her position on her pedestal. She now spoke, leaning forward so that she seemed about to topple over as she bobbed and wove about. "You say we would bring harm to these people of the Federation?"

"You have already harmed them, showing that you are a clear and present danger," said Larek. The front of his eyebrows pointed downwards more severely in a frown. He turned back to Picard. "Your first officer was nearly killed! As if that wasn't enough of a warning, you also witnessed what they tried to do to the Ferengi, which they would have done to us had we permitted contact."

Both Picard and A's'kahn'a spoke at once.

"The harm was inadvertent."

"We have realized the error!"

Larek sneered, "Oh, of course. And when each of you," he waived a general hand at the away team, "is wearing one of those creatures on your head as part of the agreement to trade with these…" he could not seem to find a word harsh enough, "creatures and directed like trained dogs, I suppose you'll consider the bargain well met?"

Picard's hand strayed up to his chin, one finger tracing a horizontal line under his mouth. "By making these statements, you've proven you were eavesdropping on our transmissions. When did you stop listening in?"

"Shortly after those Ferengi animals had fled. Just long enough to hear you continuing your conversation here as if nothing wrong had occurred." Larek shook his head. "I've never been able to comprehend the human patience for being cheated and lied to. It's as if you revel in maltreatment. If we're to share trade ground with you, we cannot allow such abuse. We won't allow ourselves to be controlled and therefore won't allow you to be controlled."

Picard could have answered that last statement with several proofs of how much the Romulans seemed to have wanted to control the Federation in the last few decades, but decided to allow the Romulan to stick his foot just a bit further into his own mouth. "All right, you've rescued us from these, villains. Now what?" Picard's voice smiled better than his mouth.

Larek hesitated, calculated silently for a mere second, and then sneered again, "You need proof of my words? You will have it. In a few moments you'll agree that what they did," he pointed his finger dramatically at the Kronatin diplomats, "was an act of aggression, for which they will have to be subjugated and be made to relinquish any rights of fair trade. I'm sure that we, the Romulans and you, the Federation will be able to come to an equitable agreement, considering it is we who did the rescuing and considering the proximity to Romulan Territory." A genuine smile passed briefly over the Romulan's lips.

Annoyed, tired, and disgusted, Picard folded his arms across his chest and answered, "Prove away."

A tiny voice, inaudible from any distance, said, "Worf here. Sir, we're prepared to lower our shields and enter into fair combat with the Romulans. At your command, Sir." The addition at the end was not lost on Picard.

With an exhausted shake of his head, not bothering to lower his voice, he answered, "Not yet, Worf. The show is about to begin."

Larek had obviously heard but only briefly looked over at the Enterprise captain, then at one of his companions, and spoke to no one in particular. "Xarsa, here, is my, what you Federation refer to as, science officer. Better, however, than his manipulations of scientific data, are his powers of reporting exactly what he observes. He is, in many ways, a great deal like our Vulcan cousins in that he can even put his emotions on hold when observing."

The Romulan turned to the group of Kronatina, fronted by A's'kahn'a. "Which of you will give up your companion?"

Stunned, human and Kronatina alike, stood silent.

Picard's arms dropped to his side. "What do you intend doing?"

Larek turned menacingly, "I intend to prove my point, Picard, and I suggest you don't interfere."

Leaving his protective comrades and advancing towards the pedestals with the confidence of a master of ceremonies, Larek stared up at the Kronatin diplomats from under his eyebrows. "Speak up please, or I'll choose for you."

The group turned, one to the other, quickly bowing so that their carapaces touched briefly. Within seconds, one of the Kronatina turned and stepped down from her pedestal but instead of presenting himself to the Romulan captain, he turned as if to leave the hall.

"Stop! What do you think are doing?" Larek's voice squeaked with exasperation.

A's'kahn'a, the fur covered face showing no emotion, the voice braying in it's forced speech, said, "We are going to send for the one who was originally designated to make your acquaintance. We have asked P'rrdtl'a to tell one of our messengers, who will bring S'r'ahn'a, as is right and proper."

The frown did not alter on Larek's face. "I think not." He gestured at P'rrdtl'a and said, "Get back up on your perch."

The next happened so quickly no one else had a chance to move. A's'kahn'a stepped from her pedestal with lightning speed, took one step to Larek, raised a furry hand and gently tapped the Romulan on the side of his head just at the temple, said, "Don't be rude." With that, she turned and climbed back up on her pedestal.

The stunned Romulan quickly raised his arm behind him to the two armed men who, he knew, were taking aim. "No! Let him be," he snarled, "For now." Avoiding looking at the Enterprise away team, knowing the human penchant for finding humor in Romulan embarrassment, he glowered at A's'kahn'a. "I acknowledge the breach of etiquette; however, the next time you think to chastise me, I suggest you think better or you'll find how painful it is being stunned into unconsciousness."

A's'kahn'a stared passively at Larek and said nothing.

The Romulan Captain continued, "In fact, the rightness or correctness of your actions is not of consequence at the moment. What is of consequence is that I don't want any of you to move unless I tell you to do so. As you have no doubt observed, our Federation allies," he turned and looked at the members of the Federation Starfleet for a moment, "understand how to keep their movements to a minimum when under the watch of someone with a phaser in his hand." He turned back to the Kronatt on the front pedestal, "Now, let me make our rules a bit more precise. When I asked you to choose someone, I meant someone here in this room, now. When you have chosen, you may summon or point, but otherwise, do not move. Have I made this clear?"

Without another word, the Kronatina on the pedestals turned to each other, communed a moment in silence, then one turned to the group of doctors assembled on a nearby set of pedestals and called, "A'm'sehn'a? Will you consent to make the acquaintance of a Romulan being, not of the Federation?"

The feathers on top of the furred mufungan'a's head seemed to droop. The body inclined a bit and brayed a single sound that was translated as, "I will."

Larek raised a hand in gesture to the group of Kron doctors. "We have observed the process of removal, previously. If your companions there wish to lend you the support you seem to need, they may do so. However, I think Xarsa can take the creature himself, without aid."

Each group of Kronatina began shuffling and leaning towards each other. Picard could not restrain himself. "Please, Captain Larek, Xarsa, this has gone far enough. There are some facts of which you are unaware." He advanced a step and put his hand out in appeal. "I—"

Larek put up a warning hand and glared at Picard to silence him. "I shall prove how imminent your danger was, Picard." He turned to the trio of Kronatina in front of him. He watched as two of the doctors flanked the chosen victim. Bowing in front of Xarsa, who had come forward, the mufunga'na was trembling, apparently feeling A'm'sehn'a's anxiety.

Much to everyone's amazement, the process of removing the feathered creature was indeed gentle. First, Xarsa grasped the carapace in front, cupping his hands so that he was not touching the eyes. A look of interest crossing his face, he said quietly, "I do indeed sense sentient intelligence. I believe your guess that they are slaves and not merely favored pets was correct."

Captain Picard remembered that the Romulans, like the Vulcans, could be telepathic when they touched another being.

Xarsa's fingers dropped and curled under the narrow rim the creature. Pulling slightly, he quickly removed the Kronatt from the head of the mufunga'na and gently turned her sweeping the trail of feathers over his shoulders. As the Kronatt settled down, he pushed the front so that she rested against his forehead, allowing the cup of her body to embrace his head.

Larek stared expectantly at Xarsa, who stared out blankly as if waiting for something. Larek urged, "Hold steady. This creature cannot bring you to his subjectivity."

"There," said Xarsa, "It is making cont—," Xarsa's face broke into a wreath of smiles.

"Report, Xarsa," commanded Larek. "Fight the control! You are the superior intellect!"

The smile on Xarsa's face widened, as did his eyes, and he burst out laughing with a full and ringing, hearty sound.

Larek looked wildly to the others in the room, then turned and grabbed the laughing science officer by a shoulder. "Report! Cease the hysterics! Report!"

The laughter died but the smile remained. "Sir, I think you had better experience the thought for yourself." He raised his hands and gently lifted the Kronatt from his head.

Larek backed away a step, obviously aghast at the suggestion.

Xarsa's voice gained some of its original seriousness "I assure you, Captain Larek, with all respect, you will best learn first hand." Xarsa switched briefly from the common Galactic to the Romulan tongue. Whatever it was he said seemed to assure the captain.

Larek took the Kronatt from Xarsa, and as soon as he put his hands onto her, his confidence seemed to increase. He raised his hands, turned the sweep of the feathers towards the back, and settled her onto his head. A'm'sehn'a, as she had done with Xarsa, gently fit herself around the Romulan's cranium. Larek's eyes widened and then he also laughed, exactly as Xarsa had. He looked about at the Kronatina on the platforms and laughed again, paused, stared into space a moment, and said, "Good!" Another moment passed, and then came an incredulous, "What?" He looked at the group from the Enterprise and shook his head slowly, his face still broad with smiles. Then, he stopped shaking his head, and looked in wonder towards Captain Picard and walked over to him and, his eyes twinkling with his merriment, put his hands on both of his shoulders. "It's a good thing you can't mind-meld."

With that cryptic remark, Captain Larek turned from Picard, and removed the Kronatt from his head. Carrying her gently he walked back to the mufunga'na who was still being supported by the other two. He placed A'm'sehn'a back on the head of her furred carrier.

Standing upright, A'm'sehn'an immediately began communing silently with the other two doctors, touching carapaces. The feathers rose and rippled several times. They stood upright and walked over to the group of diplomats. A's'kahn'a and the others stepped down and conferred. Again the feathers of several rose and fell and rippled.

Meanwhile, Larek turned to his companions and said sternly, "Lower your weapons." He looked over his shoulder at the still mystified Picard. Turning to him he said, "We'll take our leave, now." He paused. The next words were obviously very difficult for him to voice. "My apologies to you, Picard. I hope you will understand my actions were not meant entirely for gain to the Empire. I was commissioned to hold to the treaty agreement and I did have some concern for your well being." His smile was small and tentative, but was the first of such expressions that Picard felt he could believe. The almost shy grin was quickly suppressed and in its place was the better-known, triumphant smirk. "Oh, and when you get the chance, ask our new friends here what they think of the Romulan ability to link telepathically." He swaggered to his companions, turned, and quickly disappeared in a transport effect.

As if released from invisible cages, the group of humans almost leaped together, all talking at once. Riker's voice could be heard issuing from each of the communications insignia in the hubbub. "Captain, the Romulan phasers have powered down."

The captain reassured his first officer, "Yes Commander, I doubt that they'll pose any further threat. You may take the Enterprise off Red Alert and lower the shields. We'll be returning shortly."

"What in blue blazes was that about, anyway?" asked Riker. Picard looked around at everyone nearby who seemed to be asking the same question. "I'm not sure, Number One, but I think our hosts can explain."

As the Away Team conferred with each other, so did the Kronatina. P'rrrdtl'a turned and gestured several times at the one remaining messenger who promptly left the hall in a quick lope. A's'kahn'a turned, looking at her new human friend.

Taking hold of the moment with a look and a gesture, Picard quieted his companions who took their places behind him. By this time, the Kronatina were rearranged on their pedestals. After a moment, Picard turned to A's'kahn'a and said, "Oh, A's'kahn'a, would you please enlighten us? We are somewhat at a loss at Captain Larek's words."

The furry mufunga'na that belonged to A's'kahn'a waved her hand gracefully in front of her body. P'rrrdtl'a spoke up, "A's'kahn'a's Requer is still fatigued, so I shall explain. The others designated to work with the Romulans, not of the Federation, will soon be in communication with them, again. A'm'sehn'a was able to learn much in her short acquaintance, even though she had not been educated in the Romulan way."

A look of consternation passed over Picard's features. "I hope that the ease with which you are able to communicate with the Romulans will not preclude our own communications?"

A brief moment passed before the furry creature beneath P'rrrdtl'a spoke, bobbing about. "Oh Picard, of the Federation, we have so much to learn of all space beyond us, many paths to explore. Because of our proximity to the home place of the Romulans, because of our mutual telepathic abilities, we may often turn to them, but we will continue first with you. You of the Federation," she raised her hand, palm up and lowered it, palm down, "are our mentors, our first contact, and you have so much to offer. Because, though, you and the Romulans, not of the Federation, use the vocal so well, there will be many times we will turn to them for finding better ways of speaking to you, or to understand better what you say. I believe we will perhaps make it part of any trade agreement with them. Of course, the way we find will be our way, which is right and correct, is this not so?"

Picard turned at what sounded like a stifled guffaw coming from the ship's veterinarian. Looking past the rest of the bemused team, his hooded eyes nailed the woman whose hand was covering her mouth.

D'Jang was bravely working up a sound that was something between a gag and a choke. "Sorry Captain," she coughed. "Hairball or something."

Accepting her apology and remembering his diplomatic manners as well as the discipline just meted to Commander Larek, Picard turned to face the Kronatina and answered, "Of course. It is your way and your way is always right and correct."

TBC to Chapter 26

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	26. It Will Never End

Genre: StarTrek: The Next Generation

Title: New Civilizations

Summary: Finale

Chapter 26

Commander Riker was sitting at his ease in Picard's quarters, enjoying the ritual that had developed in the past several months, that of sharing a drink and exchanging end-of-the-day thoughts before retiring to their beds. "I was so busy keeping an eye on the Romulans and shutting down the Red Alert, I lost track of all that was said. You mean, they really expect the Romulans to act as liaisons between us?"

Picard gazed lazily at the light refracted through the deep red wine in the glass he was holding. "You know what I think? I think their brief contact with the Ferengi taught them quite a bit about making deals with aliens. At first, I thought their idea was rather naïve, but then A's'kahn'a casually mentioned that she figured that we'd enjoy being so close to the Romulans because then we'd be aware of their every move. And then, just as casually," Picard gingerly eased his tired frame to a different position in his chair, "she said she thought that surely a quarter of a planet's worth of minerals would seem very attractive for the Romulans and didn't I think they'd want to make some concessions to attain that much?" He looked at his first officer. "I swear she used the Ferengi word for concessions in her speech."

"So the Romulans may very well have to act as interpreters for their supper and we, keeping our back yard safe and secure, will act as police for our share. The Kronatina are coming out ahead all the way around. I wonder what else they learned from the Ferengi."

Picard winced. "I'll probably find out over the next two or three weeks of talks. The thought of which drives me to say 'goodnight'."

Riker stood, but uncharacteristically, Captain Picard did not rise. Smiling as he saw himself to the door, Riker couldn't help but say, "I hear the first day of diplomatic negotiations is the easiest."

Looking up only with his eyes, Picard smiled wanly. "Goodnight, Number One."

Riker paused to say, "Shall I leave word for an early morning call for you, Sir?" He hurried out into the corridor.

Even through the closed door to the captain's quarters Riker could hear the last reserve of energy thundering, "Goodnight!"

&&&&

A couple of days later in Ten Forward, D'Jang, Troi, Keiko, Beverly, and Guinan were sharing a quiet moment. The planet, Kron, floated in a pinkish gold haze just outside the large view windows. Keiko, interrogating the three who had seen the most action, said, "So, we just went on a ten light year joy ride, out and back to show how fast the Enterprise would go?"

The three all nodded.

Deanna said, "Did you know that most of the Kronatina we will be dealing with are female?"

"How is it," asked Guinan, "that you all thought they were male?"

"Because the mufunga'na are mostly male. The first contact team examined the mufunga'na thinking them to be the Kronatina," Beverly answered. "The Kronatina were intrigued with our interest in their carriers but didn't think to remark on the point."

Deanna continued the thought, "I didn't catch it because I was unfamiliar with female Kronatin emotional patterns. The male mufunga'na is used primarily because they're easier to manage, less excitable. The gender mix up in the translation occurred with that first assumption. Actually, it's the Kronatin females who are more socially aggressive, out and about in the world. The males are generally quite quiet and shy. The only males we've encountered so far are the two doctors who worked with D'Jang."

"They were noticeably less talkative than A'm'sehn-ran, the female physician." D'Jang said looking at Deanna, who was nodding her head.

Guinan had remained standing, as usual. She smiled that sweetly benign smile reserved only for her friends and said, "You know, it seems to me that there'd be an end to a lot of people's trouble if we just stopped assuming. I mean, if we'd just quit wondering about everything, accept only the proven, nailed down, cold hard fact. That's primarily what caused these problems; assumptions and wonder. Aren't assumptions just a part of the belief that all humans think they actually know what's going on? I mean, we gotta quit doing that." She nodded her head, the saucer shaped head covering wobbled. "I sure hope we learned our lesson." She gazed calmly at the women seated around the small table.

Crusher, Troi, Keiko and D'Jang sat contemplating Guinan's words for a few moments, but then Beverly's sly, gentle smile crept onto her lips; Deanna's dark eyes twinkled mischievously; Keiko's face turned to look at the planet haloed by a veil of stars; D'Jang's mouth pursed outwards while her eyelids lowered slightly. All at once, all five women burst into raucous giggles. They knew the human capacity for wonder and awe was active and undiminished as ever on the Enterprise.

THE END

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BTW - I wrote this story more than fifteen years ago so any resemblance between parts of this story and more recent actual events is purely coincidental...or is it?


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